Kate and the Bloody Veil
by GirlInTheMask
Summary: When Kate Foster, a fan of the one-and-only Sherlock Holmes, discovers a bride's veil covered in blood, she jumps at the chance to solve a mystery of her own. What she's not ready to jump into, though, is the danger that surrounds such a pursuit. First story in a twelve story series.
1. Club Roster

_Not my first official "Sherlock" fanfiction! This is the first story in a twelve story series, starring the "Sherlock Holmes Society," a club made up of twelve teenage schoolgirls. I have pictures of all of them on my Deviantart page, LadyInTheMask710, if you want to see them. If I get anything wrong regarding the series or the British, I apologize.  
_

* * *

**The Sherlock Holmes Society Club Roster**

Officers

_**Katherine "Kate" Foster**_ – President. Daughter of Mr. James Foster, attorney-at-law. Independent and determined, she wants to be a detective like Sherlock Holmes.

**_Rose Hilton_** – Vice-President. Confident and curious, when she believes she has a good idea she insists everyone listen.

_**Lucy Wakefield**_ – Treasurer. Though from a rich family, she's clever and resourceful and wants to be a crime reporter.

Members

_**Eleanor Beckett**_ – Daughter of Dr. Robert Beckett, M.D. Courageous and strong, she wants to be a doctor like him too.

_**Abigail Reynolds**_ – Spirited and steadfast, she's an excellent horseback rider with an uncle who trains racehorses.

_**Marianne Arden**_ – Valiant and bold, she's stylish and fashionable, but also a math-whiz.

_**Alicia de la Fuente**_ – Practical and good-hearted, she's a daughter of Señor Eduardo de la Fuente, the ambassador of Spain, and twin sister of Sylvia.

_**Sylvia de la Fuente**_ – Adventurous and daring, she's a daughter of Señor Eduardo de la Fuente, the ambassador of Spain, and twin sister of Alicia.

_**Juliet Kingsley**_ – Lively and loving, she's an expert in the age-old art of acting.

_**Phoebe Howell**_ – Hard-working and diligent, she likes to finish what she starts.

_**Stella Coleman**_ – Sensible and kind, she's a talented sketch-artist and can remember almost any face.

_**Louise Porter**_ – Brave and inspiring, she hopes to one day be prime minister.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	2. Chapter the First

**Kate and the Bloody Veil**

Chapter the First

_Wednesday, September 12, 2012  
3:25 p.m.  
_

"You missed a spot," the middle-aged English teacher pointed out. Hearing those dreaded words, Kate, her only student still in the room, stopped just before she could reach the open doorway. She bit her lip to keep any words that would get her into further trouble from escaping, and instead allowed her frustration and annoyance to show by letting out a sigh, allowing a few loose strands of her dark brown hair to fly briefly up in the process. She'd been cleaning desks for the past ten minutes, as "punishment" for being thirty seconds late to her last class for the day. Not only was that notion absurd, but today she was all the more anxious because she had to make it to the school library in at least ten minutes. Why did Mrs. Ackerman have to keep her back on this most important of days?

Since the school year started just over a week ago, Kate had heard about her new English teacher. Oh, she was nice enough, but if there was one thing she did not tolerate, it was tardiness. If she caught you coming in even one second after the bell rang, the first thing you could look forward to was cleaning the classroom from top to bottom afterward, whether or not it was actually warranted. Whether she was that way out of spite, or using her own approach to instill discipline, one could only guess. As for trying to leave early, it was not to be for Kate.

And knowing she would not be allowed to until the whole job was done, she said the only thing she knew would be permitted. "Yes ma'am." She turned around and walked with a slightly hanging head back inside, putting down her books on the nearest desk and taking the rag sitting on it up in her hands. She then walked over to the place Mrs. Ackerman pointed out to her – one of the desks in the back of the room – proceeding toward it without another word.

After spraying the water, Kate rubbed the desk thoroughly until it was at least what she considered spotless, frowning the whole time she did so. She had enough chores like this to do at home, and if this job didn't satisfy Mrs. Ackerman, she didn't think anything would. Still, she tried her best to smile as she looked back at her teacher once she was done, despite the way Mrs. Ackerman's eyebrows were raised and her lips were pressed together at her.

"May I please go now?" Kate asked, trying to keep any hint of whining out of her tone of voice.

After letting a short sigh escape her lips, Mrs. Ackerman nodded. "I suppose so." Then, with a more keen eye with a voice to match, she asked, "And I suppose you're not going to be late for class tomorrow?"

"Yes," Kate replied without thinking. Immediately realising that that probably came out wrong, judging by the look on her teacher's face, she quickly rephrased herself. "What I mean is, I won't be late tomorrow."

"Wonderful, then you're free to go," Mrs. Ackerman finally smiled. She then took up the spray bottle and rag, and as she walked back to her desk, without looking at her, she told her student, "Have a good day Miss Foster."

"You too, Mrs. Ackerman," Kate nodded before she sighed again, this time in relief. Her smile now genuine, she walked back to the first desk, took up her books, and hastened out of the room, happy to finally leave it. As soon as she stepped into the hallway, she started running. Fortunately, there was no one there for her to run into or to stop her. Taking advantage of her luck, she dashed down the hall until she made it to her locker, where she quickly put her appropriate things into her bookbag and took out the chocolate chip cookies she'd made for the meeting she was dying to get to. She then hastily tucked her loose hair behind her orange headband, and was wondering if her friends were still waiting for her, when she suddenly received an answer in the form of her vibrating cellphone.

As soon as she took it out of her pants-pocket, she found that she had a new text message.

_Where r u? – RH_

It was from Rose, one of her best friends. Wasting no time, she hastily composed a message of her own and sent it.

_On my way_

As soon as it said "sent," Kate tossed her phone into her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and continued down the hallway and then down the flight of stairs on the path toward the library, her curly ponytail bouncing behind her. She could only hope she would get there before another ten minutes passed.

Being late to class was one thing, but the idea of being late to the first meeting of a brand new club, of which she was president, was almost too much to bear for Kate. If only this campus weren't so big, and if only Mrs. "Hag-erman" hadn't kept her behind for being thirty stupid seconds late! Still, she liked attending North London Collegiate School, one of the best schools in the country, and located about sixteen kilometers north of Charing Cross in London. She'd attended since she was four years old. Now she was sixteen, and had just started her first year of sixth form. Goodbye to those old brown and blue uniforms, and hello to that IB diploma she was aiming for.

Not only that, but she was now part of a team made up of twelve girls – counting her – of which their new tutor, Mrs. LaVaughn – perhaps Mrs. Ackerman's good twin – was in charge. All sixth form students were part of one, a kind of moral support group. Most were either friends or acquaintances of one another. And when they all met on the first day, Mrs. LaVaughn gave Kate the idea of starting her own non-academic after-school club, to which all of the girls agreed. After getting opinions, and making sure who would be in charge of what, by the end of the day, the girls had formed the Sherlock Holmes Society.

Kate was glad to hear that her fellow teammates had heard of Sherlock Holmes and were fans, as she was. But to be fair, Kate herself was probably the biggest. Ever since she'd first heard of the now famous consulting detective – the only one in the world – a few years ago, she'd been to both his site, "The Science of Deduction," and the blog written by his flatmate, Dr. John Watson, countless times. In so doing, she finally realised what she wanted to be after years of aimless searching. One day, she too would be a consulting detective.

"How can you be one when you're late to class?" Mrs. Ackerman would have said. Oh! As far as Kate was concerned, her English teacher could spend the rest of her days needlessly cleaning her classroom. She, on the other hand, had to get to the library before her fellow club members decided they would start the meeting without her.

Luckily, she didn't have much farther to run. Before long, she caught sight of the familiar library door, as well as the line of refreshments on the table outside since they weren't allowed inside, and breathed another, longer, sigh of relief. Kate quickly slowed her pace to a walk, knowing she would get caught doing otherwise in the library, and decided to straighten her posture to look more like the president of the society she was. She then placed her cookies on the table, and opened the thankfully unlocked door. Seeing no one was there other than the two librarians, one of which was reading a book and the other was putting away books on the shelves, she hastened as quietly as she could to the other open doorway that led to a study room on the other far side.

As soon as she was in, all eleven faces of the girls gathered inside immediately turned toward her, but the ones that stood out most to her were those of her two best friends whom she'd known since her primary school days – Rose and Lucy, both of whom had their eyebrows raised in curious concern.

"Sorry I'm late," Kate apologized, turning her head away to avoid the stares as she placed her bag on the nearby table in front.

"What kept you?" Rose asked, "We've been waiting for at least twenty minutes."

"Well you weren't forced to clean desks for being late like I was," Kate replied in an effort to defend herself.

"So she does do that," Lucy raised her eyebrows in surprise, "But it was only like, what, thirty seconds?"

"Unfortunately," Kate sighed in annoyance, "But we can bring this up later." She then turned to her red-headed friend and asked, "Rose, did you get the roster?"

"Right here," Rose nodded, taking the clipboard holding the roster and raising it up so she could see.

"Perfect," Kate managed a smile, "Thank you." Rose handed her the clipboard, along with a red pen. Kate then stood in front of the podium which had been set up in the front of the room, while her friends took the seats on the table behind it, Rose on her right, and Lucy on her left. Now willingly looking at all the faces that had just greeted her, Kate cleared her throat and tried to smile, as well as ignore the way her heart began to beat somewhat nervously.

"Good afternoon," she said in a clear voice loud enough for everyone to hear, "Pardon the delay. For now, I would like to call this meeting of the Sherlock Holmes Society to order. We'll start with roll call." Kate then took up the red pen, and briefly scanned the list of twelve names on the roster. She immediately spotted her own name "Kate Foster" at the top of the list, along with her title of president, and marked a check on the box beside it.

"President's here," she said softly as she smirked slightly. She then, though, donned a look of seriousness and began calling out everyone's names, one by one.

"Alright, vice-president, Rose Hilton?"

"Here," Rose called. Though Kate already knew she was here, she couldn't help but return Rose's smile as she nodded at her. She could knew that she was named not only for her auburn hair, but because her mother, as well as she, was interested in flowers.

After marking a check next to her name, Kate called out, "Treasurer, Lucy Wakefield?"

"Here," Lucy smiled. Kate turned, and again returned her friend's smile as she nodded. Though Lucy and her family were rather well-off, she was content to wear inexpensive clothes, as well as her glasses which she pushed back to the top of her nose.

Now that all the officers were here, Kate went to the names of the nine members below.

"Eleanor Beckett?"

"Here," she called, raising her hand. Eleanor wore respectful clothes that reflected her respectful nature, and wore her signature white headband in her light brown, bobbed hair. Her father was a doctor at St. Bartholomew's, which was how she heard of Sherlock Holmes, having learned that Dr. Watson had also been trained there.

"Abigail Reynolds?"

"Here." Kate looked up from the clipboard and immediately spotted the girl that quickly gave the impression of being an avid horseback rider, judging by the fringe on her buttoned-up shirt. Her face was also slightly tanned and she sported strawberry blond hair, pulled back in a ponytail, and bright blue eyes.

"Marianne Arden?"

"Here," a very feminine voice called back. While Abigail's impression may have been slight, Marianne's as a fashionista seemed much more bold, at least at first glance. She wore a sparkling necklace and a matching set of earrings, and was a vision in white and pink. And this was what she considered casual as far as everyone knew. And yet, people were already coming to her for help with their math homework.

"Alicia de la Fuente?"

"Here," a voice with a slightly different accent said. Kate nodded at one of the girls whom she knew, once she heard her surname, to be Spanish rather than British. From what she knew, she and her family moved to London from Madrid with her father, the ambassador of Spain. She wore her long black hair in a single braid, had kindly brown eyes, and, luckily, knew English as well as Spanish.

"Sylvia de la Fuente?"

"Here," a near identical voice spoke up. Kate looked up to see a girl who looked almost exactly like Alicia. It didn't surprise her that they were sisters, and twin sisters at that. But it was clear that Sylvia had her differences, she wore her hair freely, letting it flow to the middle of her back in a black waterfall, had blue eyes instead of brown, and wore less dressy clothes.

"Juliet Kingsley?"

"Here," Juliet said as she raised her hand. When all the girls met on the first day of school, she described herself as a bit of a hippie, mainly because she liked how they dressed, and it showed. She wore a long white and purple translucent ribbon in her dark brown hair for a headband, and purple jeans. And from what Kate knew, she also knew how to act. Perhaps that would come in handy in the future.

"Phoebe Howell?"

"Here," a friendly voice called back. Kate looked to see an equally as friendly face, with wide hazel eyes, framed with long, wavy, honey-brown hair. At their other meeting a couple of weeks ago, she explained that she wrote poetry. Although she had no desire to stereotype, to Kate, she looked like the type that would be commonly seen at a tea or coffee room.

"Stella Coleman?"

"Here," a slightly shy voice spoke up. Kate was about to ask her to be slightly louder, when she noticed the raised hand near the back. She saw a girl with an equally shy exterior, with pale blue eyes and very blond hair with the bangs pulled back. Every time Kate saw her, Stella didn't speak much. Sometimes she wondered if she had any passion for anything at all.

"Louise Porter?"

"Here," the last voice in the room called. The last face was freckled, and framed with short, wavy, brown hair. Certainly looked a bit young for her age. Yet her face also held a look of ambition and determination. Fitting as Kate remembered that she'd once said she was interested in politics, maybe even being the prime minister.

With all of the names now called out, Kate handed the clipboard to Rose. Despite knowing the answer to the following question, she still asked, "All present and accounted for?"

"All present and accounted for," Rose repeated in affirmation. She then gave the roster back to Kate, allowing her to look one more time down the list to make sure everyone's name had a red check beside it, before she smiled in satisfaction.

"Perfect." She set the clipboard down on the podium, and then walked in front of it where she looked back at all the members. After putting on another air of solemnity, she said in the same loud, clear voice as before, "Now that we've called roll, it's time to recite the three rules of the society." She then looked with a serious eye at everyone in the room, now that she'd gotten used to directly addressing them, and said, "Remember, these rules apply to everyone. Not just members or officers."

All the girls nodded in approval. Kate nodded back, and then stood straight, crossed her arms, and cleared her throat once more before she began to go over the club's rules.

"Okay. The first rule of the SHS is, you do not talk about the SHS." She paused for a moment when she spotted Abigail, Sylvia, and Juliet slightly chuckling, but retained her composure and went on. "And the second rule is, one case will be assigned to up to three persons at a time. And the third rule, if a case gets too far out of control, we call for aid." She then put special emphasis on the last words. "Specifically, Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

After making sure no one was chuckling this time, Kate continued. "Do you all solemnly swear to agree to follow these rules that I've just presented? Aye or nay?"

There was a loud chorus of "ayes" from all eleven girls, making Kate once again smile. "Alright then. Do we have any questions?" she then asked.

"Will we be going through any weird initiations?" Abigail asked as she raised her hand.

"Or be wearing any weird uniforms?" Sylvia added, her hand also raised.

Kate opened her mouth to reply, but Marianne beat her to it, saying somewhat excitedly, "Oh, I'll be happy to design them!"

Feeling, for once, that it was better late than never to say so, Kate replied to both questions with the same answer, with a bit of a chuckle of her own when she saw Marianne's slightly disappointed look. "No and no."

But before she could ask for any more, Eleanor raised her hand and asked with evident concern, "What if we need to hold emergency meetings?"

Somewhat happy that this question was reasonable, Kate replied with sincerity, "Well you can contact me if you think we need to hold one and I will let everyone else know."

"Any more questions?" she asked inquisitively, looking for any raised hands. When she found none, she decided to move on to the next thing on her list of issues to address.

"Well then, speaking of the second rule," she said, "has everyone composed a team of three persons each?"

"I have a list of the teams right here," Rose spoke up, "We briefly went over them before you came in."

Kate looked at the vice-president and then at the blue folder in her hand, which they had previously decided to keep the club's written records in. She took it up in her own hands, opened it, and looked slowly over the names of the club's members now put together in four groups. Three people each as they wanted.

_Group 1_

_Kate, Rose, Lucy  
_

_Group 2_

_Eleanor, Abigail, Marianne  
_

_Group 3_

_Alicia, Sylvia, Juliet  
_

_Group 4_

_Phoebe, Stella, Louise  
_

Raising her eyebrows in satisfaction once she scanned the entire list, she gave a slight nod as she closed the folder and gave it back to Rose. "Good. Thank you." She then looked back at the rest of the club and asked, "And I guess you all added yourselves to our new Facebook page and included each other in your friends lists?"

All of them nodded and gave murmurs of affirmation, causing the smile on Kate's face to grow. "Excellent." She then turned to Rose again, and asked for the case status report. "Speaking of which, do we have any cases or any potential cases we could look into?"

"Not one," Rose shook her head as she frowned. "Though I'd say that's good," she then added, "since we don't have to exactly leap right into them."

"Well I seriously doubt we'll be getting any of the sort at all," Phoebe spoke up, her doubt clearly evident in her voice.

Both Kate and Rose turned to her, and for a moment, though she wanted to say otherwise, Kate found herself considering Phoebe's words. She could see her point. They were after all sixteen and seventeen year old schoolgirls, whose hobbies included dancing, gymnastics, and painting. Not exactly the kind of sleuths most cases, even the slightest ones, would occasionally land upon. Then again, that kind of worked to their advantage. Between them, they had enough brain talent to rival even Sherlock Holmes perhaps. If they were lucky enough to have a real case land on their shoulders, who would guess that these sorts of people would be the ones to eventually solve them?

But before Kate could bring her thoughts into words, Alicia suddenly spoke her concerns too. "And even if we do somehow get a case, what if it got too dangerous?" she asked.

Now that she had another question she could easily answer, Kate's smile returned and she replied with a somewhat laid-back voice, "That's what the third rule is for."

Alicia only responded with slightly pressed lips, through which a sigh somehow managed to pass, but Kate had already decided to move on to the final issue. She turned to her other friend who sat on the seat behind her at her left, and said, "Lucy, your treasurer's report?"

Lucy nodded and stood up, allowing the club's president to rest for a moment while she addressed the members. "And now for everyone's least favourite part," she said with a chuckle. Once she realised though that she was the only one laughing at her joke, she cleared her throat and let her own serious air return before she spoke.

"You can pay your membership fee by the month – about one pound a month – or, if you want to in advance, you can pay twelve pounds for the whole year," she explained, "In fact, if we all did that at once, we'd start out with a budget of a hundred-and-forty-four pounds."

"What exactly would we need all that money for?" Juliet asked without raising her hand.

"Well, think of it as a kind of financial basket for things needed when we're on cases," Lucy replied. Then, attempting again to infuse some humour in the group, she said, "Or we could simply donate some to the school or, something."

"This is one of the biggest schools in the country," Louise pointed out, her hand also not raised, "I doubt they'll need any donations from us."

"Well, you never know," Lucy shrugged her shoulders, trying to avoid a flush of embarrassment.

Just then though, she at last caught sight of a raised hand in the near back, and found that it came from Stella, who spoke loud enough for her to hear, "Are we permitted to donate freely, at any other time?"

"Oh, of course," Lucy nodded. Seeing then that no more hands, as well as hearing that no more voices, were being raised, she turned to Kate for her opinion about her proposed budget.

"Well Lucy, I'd say that's a perfectly good monthly fee," she said.

"I second that!" Rose smiled as she shot her hand up.

"And I third it," Eleanor spoke up after a short period of silence. Kate nodded at her before turning to the other members.

"Well then, seconded and thirded," she announced, "I suppose that's settled. Are we agreed?"

After looking at each other and whispering opinions to one another, all the girls soon looked back at Kate and gave her nods and murmurs of approval as before. Seeing and hearing them do so, she smiled the biggest she had at any time during the meeting, and clapped her hands together.

"Well, now that everything's been settled, do I hear any motion for adjourn?" she asked.

"I say we adjourn!" Juliet suddenly called out, slightly raising her hand up, "I'm famished and can't wait to have tea!"

Everyone immediately agreed. But before they could raise their voices too loud with eagerness and concern, Kate walked back to the podium. She stood straight and tall, as well as being secretly happy that the meeting was now over, and declared the official motion.

"Alright then," she said with her president's voice one last time, "Meeting adjourned. Thank you all for coming. Our next will be held at the same place this time next week." Feeling the need to do so, and since she didn't have a gavel, she slammed her hand on the wooden podium imitating one instead, making the adjourn now official. As soon as she did, all of the rest of the girls stood from the seats, some stretching slightly as though they'd been sitting for at least an hour, and before long, they all together left the room and made their way through the library, keeping their voices at low whispers until they finally made it to the hall outside, where their refreshments awaited them.

Abigail had brought small sandwiches with ham and cheese, and with the crusts cut off. Stella had brought small vanilla and chocolate cakes that she herself had made. Juliet had brought potato and barbecue crisps. Eleanor and Rose had brought paper plates, plastic cups and silverware. Lucy had brought a flask of tea and small packets of sugar, since this was the usual tea hour. And Kate of course had brought her chocolate chip cookies.

As the girls soon began eating, drinking, and chatting, whether it be about school or what some would consider more trivial matters, Kate was addressing a few more concerns regarding the society with her closest friends. Concerns which she knew would come up sooner or later ever since they formed the club.

"Do you really think we'll get any real cases?" Rose asked before biting into one of Kate's cookies.

"What do you mean?" Lucy asked almost incredulously, nearly spitting out her tea, "At least the three of us have been snooping around together since we were little. I'm sure we'll come up with something sooner or later."

Kate couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's undying humour, which she'd had all the years she'd known her. "Who knows?" she asked. Suddenly though, any trace of a smile soon turned into a serious frown at what she knew she had to say. "But you know, this isn't exactly all fun and games."

"Then why are we following through with it?" Rose asked after Kate took a sip of tea.

Lucy answered Rose for Kate before she finished. "What, we're teenage girls!" she exclaimed, "We need at least some excitement in our lives before we grow old."

Both Kate and Rose gave odd looks at Lucy, trying to contemplate how reaching their twenties would automatically make them old. But realising that neither really knew what to say to that, all the two could do was give a unanimous sigh and then take another drink of their tea. Kate, in particular, was beginning to wonder if she really knew what she was getting into when they got the club together just over a week ago.

She had come up with the idea that theirs shouldn't be just an ordinary "fan club" – if one could dare call it that – but in fact, if they wanted to stand out from all the other clubs, they should follow in the footsteps of Mr. Holmes himself and try to solve any sorts of cases they came across. Since Kate had decided she wouldn't meet Mr. Holmes anytime soon – since he lived at least eight kilometers away from her, and although she had a picture of him, cut from a newspaper, she could tell he wished to keep a low profile – she decided that trying to solve their own cases would be the next best thing. Though everyone eventually agreed to the notion, some more eagerly than others, now was the first real time Kate was beginning to feel the weight of such a decision.

She knew that most of Mr. Holmes' cases were ones that sometimes involved notorious criminals, especially ones that girls like her wouldn't likely stand a chance against. And she didn't really know what would happen if she found herself knee-deep in that kind of trouble on any level. But still, she felt that Lucy's previous words did have a ring of truth to them. Part of her did crave some sort of excitement. And ever since she really became a fan of Sherlock Holmes, and finally knew what she wanted to be after she left sixth form for university, Kate had the feeling that she had to express that inspiration before she left this school, which Lucy had also had a point about. Once she made it to university, there would be a lot of things to keep her busy just to try and achieve this profession that Mr. Holmes had created. Who knew? Maybe this could serve as a sort of training. But only maybe.

Soon though, Kate had her mind on other things as she and the rest of the society realised that it was time they'd be getting home. The cloudy sky outside the windows was already getting somewhat darker than before, now that autumn had started. So after the girls said their goodbyes to one another and gathered their bookbags and another things they would need, all twelve then parted ways, promising to call or e-mail one another some time during the evening.

Kate, Rose, and Lucy decided to make their way through the halls together, as they had done after school so many times in the past, until they then made it outside, where their bicycles were waiting for them. They also usually cycled to school together, so as to make the early morning trip more enjoyable in case they would otherwise be cranky, but every now and then they cycled back home alone, often because they'd tired from working all day as well as socialising. This was one of those days. They quickly identified their respective bikes and said their final farewells, before they hopped on, placed their bags in their front baskets, and waved as they went on separate paths to their own homes.

Kate soon began making her way home through Edgware, the town that stood about eight kilometers from where she grew up. It was a somewhat hodgepodge-like combination of urban, suburban, and rural areas. This area in particular, now that it was early evening, seemed like a miniature metropolis, with the streetlamps above her and most of the windows of the surrounding buildings already lit. The hustling and bustling atmosphere was clearly evident, with citizens – men, women, and some children – traveling on foot, by bicycle, car, taxi, or bus. The noises of the blowing autumn wind, honking car horns, and the combined voices and occasional shouts and laughter of the people reached Kate's ears as she pedaled down the road. Indeed, she didn't really know how anyone could grow up in this kind of environment, let alone get used to working daily in it.

In an attempt to make the ride a bit more enjoyable, Kate slowed to a stop on the side of the road, and took out her phone from her bookbag, along with the earphones she usually kept in it. Occasionally, she would listen to music on her phone's MP3 player while on her bike, both to cancel out the distracting noises such as the ones she was hearing this evening, and to make the ride more fun. After placing the earphones in her ears, she selected a song by a Korean girl's group she'd come to like, "Girls Generation," or "SNSD" as they were sometimes called. She selected their only single done in English, "The Boys," and was soon singing along as she continued down the path toward home. She wasn't much of a singer, and on her bike was one of the few places she could do so without embarrassing herself.

Still, she allowed herself to bring to mind about those questions that had been asked during the meeting, mostly the ones raised by Rose and Lucy. And soon, she found she could only wonder what the next few days, or even weeks, would bring to her as she made her way further down the path through Edgware, a solitary shadow in the evening's mysterious grey light.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._

A/N: In case you don't know, "Girls Generation" is a real pop group, and I thought "The Boys," their only single in English, made a perfect theme song. But, that's just me. :)


	3. Chapter the Second

**Kate and the Bloody Veil**

Chapter the Second

Even when Kate made it through Edgware, she still continued at her steady and usual speed of sixteen kilometers an hour. Still, the sky above her, which now seemed even darker than earlier, urged her to go a bit faster. Fortunately this proved no trouble, as she had been somewhat of a cycling enthusiast since she first learned to ride one at the age of eight. She hoped one day to upgrade to a motorcycle, and couldn't help but smirk at the thought. Sherlock Holmes may have been the world's first official consulting detective, but she would be the first one – at least to her knowledge anyway – to use a motorcycle as her main mode of transportation.

After nearly half an hour of cycling though, Kate soon made it to a neighborhood just outside the town of Dollis Hill, and before long caught sight of her own house. It was large but had a certain charm to it, with all its white paint covering its already posh exterior. Fitting considering her father was a lawyer. When she was little, it always seemed to look somewhat like a palace. And now that she was almost fully grown, she decided there was no other place she would rather live, even if the people she lived with weren't always agreeable.

Kate turned her bike toward the back of the house, where she finally hopped off it in front of the garage. After punching in the security code and letting the door raise, she led her bike through the rather dank and damp atmosphere of the inside, and parked it near the door leading into the house itself. She then breathed a sigh of relief at finally being home, and headed toward the door, which was fortunately unlocked.

But as soon as Kate made her first step inside, she gasped as she suddenly heard a loud and angry yowl underneath her. Only when she saw the black and white cat scurry as fast as he could up the stairs did she realise what happened. She'd stepped on Zeus's tail, and had nearly leaped out of her skin as a result.

As she heard the cat's low growl as he made it to the open doorway at the top, Kate let out a bit of a low growl herself. "I'm gonna kill that cat," she muttered as she shut the door. She then walked up the stairs herself, and wondered why her aunt had insisted on taking both Zeus and another cat named Missy in after they literally arrived on their front doorstep just over a month ago. Then again, her aunt was fifty years old. Perhaps she was going through a cat lady phase, and hopefully it wouldn't last. Not only had she named the cats, but before they could take them in to be fixed, it was discovered that Missy was pregnant. Just two weeks ago she delivered three kittens, and it wouldn't be long before there had to be homes found for them too.

Sometimes Kate could only wonder what went on inside her aunt's head, even if she had been living with her and her father for the past four years. Still, she was her family after all, and she saw no real reason not to treat her as such. After replacing her annoyed face with a more relaxed one, she soon made her way out of the basement and into the kitchen, where her aunt was most certainly having tea, as she could smell it, and called out, "Aunt Georgie, I'm home!"

Just as Kate thought, she was having tea, and the woman who looked rather alarmingly like an older version of her – with the same dark, but greying, hair and the same brown eyes – raised her eyebrows at her the moment she walked in.

"At last," she sighed in relief as she then began to stir her tea with a slightly wrinkled hand, "Did you forget where the house is?"

Kate returned her confused look. "No," she shook her head, "I was meeting with my club for the first time. Didn't I tell you this morning?"

The woman – whose real name was Georgiana yet was used to being called "Georgie" by her brother and niece – raised her eyebrows again, this time in surprise. "Oh that's right," she realised, "I forgot. But why didn't you call?"

"I didn't think I needed to," Kate replied as she shrugged her shoulders. She then took out her now empty cookie tin from inside her bag and placed it on the counter.

"Oh, did they like the cookies?" her aunt asked once she saw it.

"What do you think?" Kate asked redundantly, "They ate them all."

Her aunt sighed again before taking a sip of her tea, but feeling a slight curiosity, she decided she might as well satisfy it by asking, "And what is this club again?"

"The Sherlock Holmes Society," Kate smiled as she laid her bookbag on the counter and then leaned against it.

"Named for that detective who lives down in Westminster I suppose?"

"The very one," Kate replied enthusiastically, smiling bigger this time as she flipped her ponytail behind her.

Her aunt's eyebrows shot up for a third time, though only for a brief second, as she took a second drink. "Pardon me, but I don't really understand why you're interested in that sort of thing," she said, "True, your father is an attorney, but I don't know why you should be knee-deep in such pursuits at your age."

"I'm sixteen Auntie," Kate said with a slightly laid-back tone, the second time she used it that day. Then, somewhat repeating Lucy's words in her own way, she claimed, "I crave excitement."

"Then may I advise you not to go looking for it in the wrong places?" the older woman warned her. And with a small smile of her own, she added, "Besides, things should get very exciting on Saturday."

Seeing that her aunt's eyes were on her tea as she drank it, Kate pressed her lips together in nervous anticipation. In three days, she, her dad, and aunt would be going to a wedding near Westminster. The groom, one Mr. Harris Livingston, was an old friend of her father's, and a lawyer just like him. Kate had seen him several times growing up, and was somewhat surprised when she learned he was getting married for the first time, since he wasn't much younger than her dad. But while most girls would be glowing with glee to attend such an event, Kate was already expecting it to be tedious, since she would know almost none of the guests and likely be the only girl her age there. If Rose or Lucy or any of her other new friends had been going, certainly it would be easier to endure. But they weren't, so she would be left to face the surely long day alone, to her dismay.

"Speaking of which," her aunt then said, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to have another fitting?"

Hearing this, Kate allowed her dismay to fully show on her face, as this was another issue regarding the occasion. Ever since they received news of the wedding, rather than buy her a dress, her aunt had taken it upon herself to make one for her. Not that she was a terrible seamstress – in fact, Kate found she liked what her skill had conjured up – but the fitting sessions themselves went on for as short or as long as her aunt liked. In all those times of poking needles and prodding hands, Kate attempted to remind her that the Victorian era was over, but her aunt would have none of it.

"Aunt Georgie, I've had enough fittings!" Kate exclaimed anyway, "Besides, the wedding's only three days away!"

"Exactly!" her aunt herself exclaimed, "One more won't kill you!"

Kate could only closed her eyes, put her hand to her forehead, and let out a heavy, reminding her of just how tired she was. "Well, maybe later," she said. She then took up her bookbag, which seemed slightly heavier than before, and added, "For now I have work to do."

"You don't want some tea?" her aunt asked.

"No thanks," Kate shook her head as she turned to go, "I already had some." Then, looking up at her one more time, she asked, "Is Dad coming home?"

"He just called a while ago," her aunt replied, "He's on his way."

"Thanks," Kate nodded, "I'll be up in my room." Her aunt nodded back, allowing her niece to leave the kitchen and retreat to her room upstairs at last. But as Kate walked up the mahogany stairway to the second floor, she felt a slight sense of strange guilt for whining at her aunt, and it didn't take long for her to figure out why. Though she'd come to hate those fittings with a passion, she knew her aunt meant well, and might have also had an unspoken reason for why she doted on her like she did. Her aunt did have two grown sons, eleven and eight years older than Kate. So, in a way, Kate was like the daughter she never had, as well as another child to baby before she too was grown.

In an attempt to focus on other things, Kate turned her thoughts to another issue bothering her. Sometimes she envied Rose and Lucy, since they had siblings while she was an only child. On some days, such as this, even with her aunt in the house, it felt strangely empty, like walking into a home that hadn't been inhabited for years. Then again, it was probably for the best this time, since she was somewhat tired after a long day. Plus, even if she didn't have any real brothers or sisters, she still had her friends, who were the closest things to sisters she ever had.

Soon though, when Kate finally reached her room – which admittedly needed more cleaning than Mrs. Ackerman's room – she breathed a sigh of relief before she walked over to her bed where she placed her bookbag. From there, she went over to sit in front of her desk, on the center of which sat her laptop painted in orange, her favourite colour. After turning it on and logging on, she opened two internet tabs and directed one to "The Science of Deduction," and the other to Dr. Watson's blog. She first looked at Mr. Holmes' site, and read what was written on the home page, which she had read enough times to recite word for word.

_1. I observe everything._

_2. From what I observe, I deduce everything._

_3. When I've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how mad it might seem, must be the truth._

She then went to his forum, and looked over the dozens if not hundreds of requests for help sent to him, ranging from the serious to the very bizarre, until she came upon one written by an eight-year-old girl named Kirsty Stapleton, asking Mr. Holmes to help her find her missing – and oddly enough, glowing – pet rabbit, Bluebell. Why and how she sent this message to Mr. Holmes of all people, Kate couldn't imagine. Her guess was that the girl was likely somewhat bright, perhaps even as odd as she was at that age.

After looking over a few more, she exited out of the site and went to the doctor's blog. Most would wonder why a doctor who recently returned from Afghanistan would write a personal blog for all to see, but Kate reasoned it was likely his own way to deal with post-traumatic stress. Then again, he was going on all these dangerous adventures with his flatmate, so she couldn't really be sure.

She went to the last post in his "cases" folder, "A Study in Pink." _Catchy title_, she thought. Though she'd looked this several times before, Kate never tired of reading about Dr. Watson's first case with Sherlock Holmes. What had first caught her attention when she first read it was his paragraph.

_When I first met Sherlock, he told me my life story. He could tell so much about me from my limp, my tan and my mobile phone. And that's the thing with him. It's no use trying to hide what you are because Sherlock sees right through everyone and everything in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things. _

_Oh dear_, she remembered thinking, _I wonder what Mr. Holmes would have to say to that._ And sure enough, there were his thoughts in the comments section.

_John, I've only just found this post. I've glanced over it and honestly, words fail me. What I do is an exact science and should be treated as such. You've made the whole experience seem like some kind of romantic adventure. You should have focused on my analytical reasoning and nothing more._

_Sherlock Holmes__ 28 March 17:46__  
_

Despite the obviously displeased tone which those words presented, Kate couldn't help but chuckle, which for some reason she almost always did at the most inappropriate of times. If this was what they posted online, she could only wonder what things were like where they lived. Before long though, her eyes began to unconsciously drift until they settled on the photograph that sat near her laptop, the photograph that bore that all-too-rarely captured image of the detective himself. He had his coat collar turned up and was wearing a rather ridiculous looking hat. But from what she could see of him, she thought he was actually somewhat handsome, even if he did look at least twice her age. He seemed to have pronounced cheekbones, his face was framed by curly hair slightly lighter than her own. His eyes, though, were unfortunately hidden by the shadow of his hat.

Oh, to actually meet him in person. To learn from the master himself. She'd imagined it several times. She would be his protégé, he would be her mentor, and he would be so impressed with her he would beg her to work with him and Dr. Watson. Suddenly though, Kate shook her head before she could completely give into this fantasy, which, now that she really thought about it, seemed childish and nonsensical.

In an attempt to physically get away from it, she got up from her seat, turned, and walked to her vanity on the other side of the room. As soon as she stood in front of it, she took off her headband, took out her ponytail, and shook her head, allowing her hair to flow freely past and around her shoulders. As she looked in the mirror, she knew wasn't exactly a knockout in the looks department, but she thought she looked pretty enough. She then took up a nearby brush and began stroking it through her hair, one of the things she usually did to wind down.

As she did, Kate allowed her eyes to wander again, this time to the reflection of the bookcase which sat next to her desk. For as long as she could remember, she loved to read. And she was lucky enough to live in a house that had a library, even if it was small. She never really got around to the kindle, as she preferred to actually hold the book itself. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing that came close to opening an entire world right in your very own hands. And she would never forget the memories associated with such a notion.

Before she could bring any of them to mind though, her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the sound of the door to the kitchen downstairs being shut. Immediately, a smile lit up her face, as she knew who that had to be. She put down the hairbrush and hastened out the door and then down the stairs. As soon as she got to the kitchen, she smiled even bigger when she saw that not only was her aunt in the room, but now so was her father, just home from his office.

"Hi Dad!" she greeted him happily as she walked over to give him a hug.

"Hello love," he said as he hugged her and gave her a kiss, "How did your club meeting go?"

"Great!" Kate replied, "We're off to a great start! How was your day?"

"Tedious, as usual," her dad replied, but Kate caught the slight chuckle that escaped him.

"You don't look tedious," she pointed out.

"He's always been good at hiding it," her aunt spoke up, causing both her brother and niece to laugh.

"And what have you two been doing all evening?" her dad asked.

"Well, I just got back," Kate replied, "But we had a nice little chat."

Her aunt nodded as she took a sip of a second cup of tea. "We talked about getting another fitting done," she said.

"I told you Aunt Georgie," Kate told her, her smile slightly gone, "I'm not doing it."

All her aunt did in response before drinking again was roll her eyes. But now that the issue had been brought up again, Kate turned back to her father with a different face and tone of voice from before. "Dad," she said with reluctance, "do I have to go to this wedding? There's just gonna be a bunch of old people there."

He gave her a confused look and asked, "Who are you calling old?"

Kate smiled an uncomfortable smile. "Not, you," she replied.

Her father's smile slightly settled her. "Well, I don't know about you but there was something about Saturday I'd like to tell you," he said.

Kate raised her eyebrows in intrigued interest. "Really?" she asked, "What is it?"

"Earlier today, I had a chat with Harris," he explained, "He told me how he made negotiations with the police to provide protection during the wedding."

Kate's eyes widened instantly, for she knew the one reason why Mr. Livingston would make those requests. "Oh yeah," she said, "you mean because of the Bride…"

She stopped suddenly when she saw the worried look on her aunt's face, as she knew just who Kate was talking about. Though Mr. Livingston and his fiancée had planned to have their wedding at a specific chapel, in the past two months there had been reports of three previous brides who went missing on the day of their wedding, and later had ransom notes sent to their families to have their now dead bodies returned. So frightening had all three of these cases been that the unknown killer who had still not been caught by the police had been dubbed the "Bride Butcher," for the bloody way in which the women had been found.

Knowing that what her dad was talking about had to do with this, Kate listened more intently. "Sorry, go on," she urged him.

"Well, interestingly enough," he continued, a bit of a smirk growing on his face, "not only did the police accept Harris's request, but they weren't the only ones he notified."

"What are you talking about?" Kate asked, "Who else could he…" She stopped again, this time in surprise that slowly began to dawn on her in building excitement. "Wait," she said, her eyes widening and her smile getting bigger by the second, "You don't mean…!"

"Yes!" her dad chuckled, knowing how much she'd be pleased, "He's also contacted Sherlock Holmes, and he accepted too. He's coming to the wedding."

"He is not!" Kate exclaimed in disbelief. Indeed, she felt almost as though she might squeal.

"I thought he didn't work with the police," her aunt spoke up, "Isn't he a private detective?"

"_Consulting_ detective Aunt Georgie," Kate corrected her. Then, with renewed ecstasy she exclaimed, "And I can't wait to tell Rose and Lucy!"

"Whoa, hold it!" her dad said, instantly putting his hand on her shoulder before she could speed back up to her room, "Not so fast. You can't tell this to anyone else."

"Then why did you tell me, and in front of Aunt Georgie?" Kate asked with a skeptical look on her face.

"That's different," he replied, "You and your aunt are attending the wedding."

Kate could only cross her arms and give her dad a single raised eyebrow and a smirk. Still, inside she couldn't have been more excited. The thought of finally seeing in person, let along meeting, the world's only consulting detective, even if it was just a glance, thrilled her much like another girl her age would be if they were going to meet their favourite band. In fact, it even exhilarated her somewhat more knowing she had to keep this knowledge to herself.

"I just hope things will turn out well," her aunt said, "And who knows? Perhaps, we can…"

She trailed off, causing both Kate and her dad to look confused. "Yes, Georgie?" he asked.

She paused for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully before she finally replied, "Nothing, never mind."

Kate was about to ask her what she meant just now, when a sudden idea started to send her excitement into a drastic descent. She knew about the chapel that Mr. Livingston and his future wife would be married in, and hadn't been there in years, hadn't thought about in years, until she heard of the wedding. But now, feeling a certain unpleasant memory resurface in her mind, she seemed to have found yet another reason not to wish to go, despite her previous eagerness which had now been eclipsed.

In a tone of voice that now fit her mood, Kate said, "Well, if neither of you mind, I'm gonna go hop in the shower."

"You don't want supper?" her aunt asked.

"I'll have some later," Kate replied, "I just want to wind down. It's been a long day for me."

"Are you alright Kate?" her dad asked, suddenly concerned.

"Oh I'm fine Dad," Kate replied, even if she was lying somewhat, "I'm fine. I'd just, like to be alone for now."

"Alright," he said uneasily. With that, Kate then turned away from him and walked out of the kitchen. After ascending the stairs at a much slower pace than before, she soon returned to her room. She then walked into the bathroom on the side of it that she was happy to have, where she quickly took off her clothes and stepped into the shower. Before long, she smiled a small smile at feeling the warmth of the water pouring like rain against her body, until her smile slowly sank back into a frown at the coldness of that memory she tried to keep hidden but couldn't.

Not only had Kate's parents been married at the same chapel, but the cemetery in the back was where her mother had been buried, for the past four years. In the months before she died, she'd been diagnosed with cancer. Kate reluctantly recalled with a heavy heart all those days that she'd watched her deteriorate, connected to all sorts of things by IVs, losing her hair as well as her weight, and becoming as ghostly white as the hospital room she was in. And yet, even as she became a skeleton of her former self, she still desired her daughter to be happy. If there was anything happy about those days, it was the times spent reading books together, just as they'd done throughout Kate's life.

But all the chemotherapy and treatments Kate's mother was given couldn't help her in the end. When she finally did die when Kate was twelve years old, it was as though a part of Kate had died with her. She couldn't remember another series of days that felt as dark and full of countless tears like the ones that followed. And when she really did say goodbye to her on the day of the funeral, it felt like a living shadow fell over her like a mourning veil, never lifting no matter where she went. Even having her dad's sister move in shortly thereafter didn't immediately do anything to pull her out of her almost zombie-like state.

Still, if anything good did come out of it, Kate had to admit that she and her father had gotten closer in the past few years since. And even if she and her aunt didn't have the same sort of bond, she did appreciate her desire to help. In any event though, no matter how much it seemed to shrink, it looked as though the veiling shadow would never leave her. But after thinking over all she'd gone through today, and feeling even a fraction of the excitement she once felt, Kate knew that no matter how many tragedies hit her life, nothing was going to keep her from achieving her ultimate goal of becoming a consulting detective like Mr. Sherlock Holmes. And who knew? Perhaps she could have a look into the mysterious "Bride Butcher" herself.

* * *

Meanwhile, about half an hour away in the city of Westminster, where all sorts of activity went on both day and night, the front door of a flat was shut as soon as one of the two people who lived there entered it, allowing outsiders to see the number: 221B. Inside, the work-weary doctor who lived with the world's only consulting detective sighed heavily as he made his way up the steps to the second floor, which, as usual, was in need of cleaning. Even the spray-painted smiling face with bullet-holes adorning the wall still hadn't been done away with in the months since they'd been forcibly put there by one of the inhabitants who at the time had been bored. And yet, strangely enough, he couldn't find him in here.

"Sherlock," Dr. John Watson called out. He turned his head when he heard a spoon being laid down on the counter in the adjoining kitchen.

"Oh John," said a feminine voice he recognized. From around the corner came the landlady, Mrs. Hudson, a somewhat charming older woman holding a cup of hot tea, "You're home at last. How did your day go?"

He didn't answer her immediately, instead sitting down in his usual chair beside the fireplace, sighing again as he did so. "I never thought doing locum work could be so exhausting," he admitted as he ran his fingers through his hair, "Speaking of which, do you know where Sherlock is?"

"I believe he said something about having an important chat with the police," Mrs. Hudson replied, "He should be home soon. Care for some tea?"

"I thought you said you were my landlady and not my housekeeper," John said as he gave her a slight smirk.

"That doesn't mean I can't offer it to you every now and then."

John suppressed a chuckle, and then opened his mouth to speak, when he suddenly heard the front door downstairs being slammed shut so hard and so loud that John slightly jumped in his seat. But he wasn't caught completely off-guard. He knew who was going to come through the open doorway from the heavy footsteps that then followed. And yet, as soon as he was just outside the doorway, the footsteps ceased to be loud. In then slowly walked his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, who looked as though he had a completely normal day, taking off his coat and scarf in the most casual manner and having a somewhat calm look on his face. But John had learned long ago what Sherlock's definition of "normal" was, if he had one at all.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean 'is something wrong?'" Sherlock asked almost curtly. Mrs. Hudson, having no desire to listen to the inevitable conflict, turned and walked back into the kitchen.

"Well," John replied, "I assumed that by your slamming of the door and the way you walked upstairs that there was something wrong?"

Sherlock turned around to face him with raised eyebrows. "Well done John," he said, "It seems your deductive skills are getting better."

John raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Does that mean something's wrong then?" he asked slightly hesitantly.

"Yes of course something's wrong!" Sherlock exclaimed with renewed frustration, "What other explanation could there be?"

"You got me," John replied with a somewhat relaxed manner, "What is it now?"

"It's Lestrade," Sherlock replied with gritted teeth, "One of these days I'm gonna have it with him!"

John could only close his eyes, put his head in his hand, and sigh. "Why do you have to get in arguments with everyone?"

"Because I don't think like everyone," Sherlock replied.

"Well, what were you doing with Lestrade?" John had to ask nonetheless.

"I was meeting with him and Harris Livingston at Scotland Yard," Sherlock replied, "I've decided to accept his offer."

"Well why would you have to go if the police are providing protection?" John asked, even though he'd asked that when Sherlock received the e-mail.

"That's exactly what Lestrade asked me! What he doesn't get is that things might go wrong anyway. And the moment they do he's going to need my help!"

"Do you have any idea that things might go wrong?"

"Each of the three murders occurred every three weeks," Sherlock explained, "It's been almost three weeks since the last one. And I have no doubt I'll catch him this time."

"And, how will you know him when you find him, again?" John asked.

Sherlock, having no problem explaining his deductive reasoning, decided to remind his colleague. "Well I do know that he had at least one accomplice, and that either he or his accomplice was drunk. The uneven footprints left at each of the crime scenes indicate a drunk, so if it was the murderer, he wouldn't have kidnapped each of the women alone. And even though all the women died from being shot in the chest, either the murderer or his accomplice didn't have very good aim or wasn't used to using a gun, since the wounds were each near the heart despite clearly aiming for the heart itself."

"Amazing what you come up with," John spoke up.

"I know," Sherlock nodded, "But if I can catch them in the act and prove it's them…oh, Lestrade will never doubt me again!"

"You seem so sure," John pointed out, "Do you ever think you might be wrong?"

"Well I got one detail about your life story wrong didn't I?" Sherlock asked, half-smiling. Before John could speak again though, he interrupted him as he stood up from his seat on the couch. "On the other hand, yes, I am sure. I've done this plenty of times before, I can do it again." He then turned and appeared to John as if he was looking out the window, when truthfully, he was looking at the pictures that had formed in his mind from previous investigations of the case.

"Care to come with me by the way?" he then asked.

"What, to the wedding?" John asked. After quickly thinking it over, he ultimately shrugged his shoulders as he decided "why not." "I suppose. It's been a while since I've been to a wedding. But do you think Lestrade will allow it?"

"You're my colleague aren't you?" Sherlock asked, still keeping his gaze focused, "Problem?"

"Oh, nothing," John shook his head, even though Sherlock wasn't looking at him, "No problem at all."

"Good then," Sherlock gave a bit of a smile, "We go this Saturday, in case you didn't know."

"I, look forward to it," John said somewhat nervously, "Catching another murderer, at a wedding of all places. It's all going to be really good fun."

"Oh it is John," Sherlock agreed as he turned back toward the window. As he did though, despite his brilliant mind, he had no way of knowing that just eight kilometers away, at the same time as he was, a girl half his age with her own considerable intelligence gazed out her own window as well, herself looking forward to having a bit of fun of her own.

"It is," he repeated in a tone only he could hear.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated.  
_


	4. Chapter the Third

_Sorry about the wait! I've been pretty busy and unwell. Well, I hope it was worth the wait!_

* * *

**Kate and the Bloody Veil**

Chapter the Third

The next three days for both the detective and the schoolgirl were spent partly in excitement, partly in nervous anticipation. Neither knew exactly what would happen, but what both knew for sure was that something, big or small, would go down come Saturday. Before either of them knew it though, the morning of the wedding had arrived. But while both knew they had to be on their toes the entire time once they were there, Kate had the additional challenge of acting as though it was any other day while doing it. She wondered at first if she should have asked for extra acting tips from Juliet.

But as the morning went on, it turned out that it might not have been as great of a challenge as she first thought. All she really had to do was sit while her aunt styled her hair. She could have done it herself, but she admitted that she couldn't do it half as well as her aunt, who had once been a hair stylist. Indeed, she wondered why she'd given up the profession years ago. Even so, it wasn't long before she proceeded to speak to Kate with a tone she considered much too sweet.

"You are going to look like a princess!" she exclaimed excitedly as she flipped some of her hair over her face.

With her hair hiding her frown, Kate let out a low sigh. "No offense but, do you have to use that language?" she asked.

"Oh, can't I have just a bit of fun?" her aunt asked in mock offense, "Better yet, just think of how nice you'll look for Mr. Holmes!"

"Aunt Georgie!" Kate exclaimed with wide eyes. Now she found yet another reason to dread going to this wedding. If her aunt did or said anything to embarrass her, she would surely expire on the spot.

"Oh come on Kate!" her aunt chuckled, "I'm not that inconsiderate!" Kate rolled her eyes and was about to say otherwise, when she suddenly felt her hair on the back of her head being tugged.

"Ow!" Kate said sharply as she grit her teeth, "Don't pull so hard!"

"Well if you would hold still!" her aunt retorted. But she tried to be more gentle, giving Kate time to plan and ponder over how the day would unfold, unknowingly allowing a grin to grow on her face as she did so.

"Do you think the murderer will show up?" she finally had to ask.

"I hope not," her aunt replied firmly in a voice lacking humour.

Kate could only sigh in response. Shrugging her shoulders, she gave a slight smirk as she said, "It'd be more exciting than just sitting through a wedding."

"You'd be surprised," her aunt replied, "A lot exciting things seem mundane unless you look into them."

Kate said nothing, giving instead only a bigger smirk in an attempt to hold back a chuckle. Not only did she believe her aunt needed to update her definition of the word "exciting," but little did she know that she was in fact going to look into something that might seem mundane, only to find something of great value underneath.

Before too long though, some of her focus turned to the final result of her and her aunt's preparations. When they were finally ready for the wedding, both couldn't help but look over each other with raised eyebrows at the somewhat surprisingly good culmination of their work. Kate's aunt wore a long white dress with black lace at the hem and a small black belt around the waist. She also wore a white cardigan with long sleeves, had her hair swept up, and wore black heels with ankle straps.

Kate wore the dress that had been made for her. It had a black pencil skirt with a layer of ruffles, a larger black belt around the waist, and a white, sleeveless blouse. She also wore black leggings and short black boots. Her aunt had tamed her rather unruly hair by curling it and putting it into a low ponytail draped over her left shoulder. In her hair she also wore two silver hairpins, which matched her eye-shadow accompanied by blush and pink lipstick. Indeed, Kate slowly felt herself begin to beam when she saw herself in her mirror.

"Not bad Aunt Georgie," she couldn't help but smile, "Not bad at all. I'm impressed!"

"I knew you'd be!" her aunt smiled greatly. She then turned and started to look as though she was searching for something. "Oh, where is my blasted phone!"

Hearing those words, Kate's face lit up in reflection of an idea suddenly hitting her. "Wait!" she said, "Get my phone first! I want to send a picture to Rose and Lucy!"

Her aunt seemed to agree with her, as she quickly took her phone from where Kate pointed it out on her desk. Kate then her best supermodel pose, smiled, and let her aunt take a shot. As soon as Kate looked at the picture, and agreed with her aunt that it was a good one, she quickly composed an accompanying message, _How do I look? _and then sent it to Rose and Lucy. It didn't take long for her to receive a response from both of them.

___You look fabulous darling! :D – RH_

___Incredible! I wish I was going! __– LW_

Kate smiled happily once she read them, as she could practically hear Rose's imitation of a stereotypical fashion designer and Lucy's own excited voice filled with glee, when she suddenly turned her head upon hearing her father's voice calling from downstairs.

"Five minute warning!" he said loud and clear through Kate's door, "If you don't want to be left behind you'd better hurry!"

Kate and her aunt then looked at each other with raised eyebrows. They knew he wasn't kidding.

"We'd better get down there," Kate said. She then took up from her vanity and hastily put on her black coat, after which she grabbed her black purse which she'd also laid on her vanity, and dropped her phone into it before pulling it up onto her shoulder. When she looked back at her aunt, she seemed to be having the hardest time searching for something, and had a look on her face that told Kate she wouldn't leave until she found it.

"Oh! Where is my purse?!" she asked as she looked behind Kate's desk.

Though not really expecting an answer, Kate couldn't help but chuckle not only at how seriously she was taking this search, but also at how she saw it where her aunt, it seemed, hadn't even thought to look.

"Try looking right behind you Aunt Georgie," she said, trying to keep her chuckle from turning into laughter.

Her aunt did as she suggested, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise when she spotted her white purse sitting on Kate's desk. Paying no attention to her niece, she snatched it up, looked inside, and breathed a sigh of relief. "So that's where my phone was," she said with a matching tone of voice.

Kate let out another brief chuckle, but her humour quickly left her when she realised that two minutes of her father's five minute warning had already passed.

"Well come on!" she said, titling her head toward the door, "We don't want Dad to leave without us!"

Without another word, Kate and her aunt hastened to the door, and then hurried out the room and then down the stairs. Once Kate heard her dad sip what she assumed to be coffee though, she remembered that he might grade her appearance, and decided to casually saunter into the kitchen, her aunt right behind her. Putting her hands on her hips and flipping her hair over her shoulder, she asked him, "Well, how do we look?"

Her dad raised his eyes up from his coffee, just as he was about to take another drink. Instantly, his eyebrows stooped as he looked over his daughter and sister before putting his cup down and giving his verdict. "Impressive," he said in a pleased voice. Then, in a somewhat unexpected move, he leaned on the counter and gave the two a humourous smirk as he asked, "What do you think?"

Kate bit back a chuckle at the image her dad was presenting her with, but before it had a chance to escape, her aunt gave her own opinion. "Adequate enough," she said. Kate's dad turned to her, but since her aunt had pretty much took the words out of her mouth, she gave a slight smile and shrugged her shoulders in agreement. He looked nice enough, with his black suit and light blue tie that made him look very gentlemanly and professional. Soon though, she admitted to herself that sometimes she didn't think her dad could look so handsome.

"Well, if we're through with opinions," he then said, grabbing the keys to the car he left on the counter, "do we need anything else? Speak now or forever hold your peace."

Both Kate and her aunt quickly went over their mental checklists, until they came to the conclusion that they did have everything they needed. "I think we'll do for now," Kate then replied.

"Alright then," her dad said as he nodded toward the back door, "Shall we? We don't want to be late."

Kate and her aunt showed their agreement by quickly following him out the back door, down the basement, and then into the garage where the car – a somewhat fancy ride with freshly polished black paint and comfortable upholstery inside – sat waiting for them. Kate's dad climbed into the driver's seat on the right, while her aunt got into the passenger's seat on the left, and Kate got into the back. Before long, they were finally on the road and traveling through the neighborhood before entering the town proper of Dollis Hill, much to the relief of Kate's aunt. But while they chatted and even bickered much like siblings do no matter how old they grow, Kate took out her phone from her purse, and composed a text message to send to Rose and Lucy.

_On my way to the wedding_

She soon received a response from both her friends.

_Good luck :) – RH_

_Have fun digging up the dirt! – LW_

Kate let out a chuckle at Lucy's humourous reply. She had told them that she was going to look into the case of the "Bride Butcher" after all, and wished she could tell them further about the possibility of meeting the great Sherlock Holmes, but loyalty to her father's request kept her from doing so. Still tuning out her family's voices, she put away her phone and turned her attention to the scenery of the town she'd known since childhood as it passed her by. But despite the familiarity that met her with every inch of travel, she couldn't help but frown and release a low sigh, as she finally grasped with a slowly rising nervousness about diving headfirst into this mystery that even the police couldn't solve.

Before another half-hour passed, Kate turned her head and saw what she knew to be the chapel, recognizable only by the memory she had of going there for her mother's funeral. It hadn't changed much, still being a somewhat large marble building with a large double-door entrance, several stained glass windows on the sides near the back, and three steeples, the one in the middle being taller than the other two with a cross on top. Upon seeing it, Kate shrank back slightly in her seat. The last time she'd come here, even though it had been only four years ago, it seemed so much larger, so much more massive, as grim as the rainy day itself had been. Today, only white clouds hung over the city of Westminster, but that did not stop Kate from feeling so haunted at returning to the place where her mother had been buried.

Only when they managed to find a parking spot near the front entrance did Kate notice the group of policemen standing nearby, huddled up together and speaking with a man whom she guessed to be the one in charge. She didn't know his name, obviously do to legal reasons, but she could tell by his collected and reserved demeanor that he was the detective-inspector. Indeed, she couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at the unusual scene before her.

"Wow," she said loud enough for her dad to hear her, "You weren't joking."

"I'm simply glad we were able to find a parking spot," her aunt spoke up.

"Well, there's no time to poke fun or vent," her dad said, "Unless you're both going to be calm about this, you can sit here."

Kate didn't see her aunt's reaction, as she was too focused on her own. Knowing that, by the tone of his voice, he wasn't kidding, and knowing she had a very real case on her hands, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed before following her family out of the car. The cold of the outside immediately greeted her, making her quicken her pace to catch up with her dad and her aunt. How they could have long strides when she was just about as tall as they were she couldn't guess, but in any event, she knew she would be happy once she reached the surely warm inside of the chapel.

* * *

Not long after they entered the chapel though, a cab pulled up to the other side of the road, where two men paid the driver and stepped out. One was taller and, admittedly, more handsome than the other, and greatly resembled a giant raven intent on nothing but capturing his prey, but both were dressed for the occasion in fancy black tuxedoes just as if this were any other wedding. But of course, they, if no one else, knew that this wedding would eventually turn red.

Rubbing his hands together in great anticipation, Sherlock murmured, "Another day, another serial killer for me to trap."

Though somewhat used to his unusual habits by now, John felt the need to say something. "Okay but, Sherlock, can you please try to enjoy the occasion? I mean, this is supposed to be a happy day for some people."

"Oh this is a happy day for me," Sherlock reminded him, his mind focused only on the eventual prize he would soon catch, "Happy, happy."

Sherlock, in his usual carefree fashion, didn't bother to look across the street before crossing it. His eyes were focused only on one man speaking to the group of policemen near the front, his longtime associate, Detective-Inspector Lestrade. Even if he was a bit strict about police protocol, Sherlock appreciated Lestrade's own appreciation for his deductive skills which were called on most of the time. Sometimes it was a wonder Sherlock himself hadn't taken his position. But today he couldn't lose himself in sentimental nonsense.

"Lestrade!" he called out. The detective-inspector turned and raised his eyebrows before shaking his hand in greeting.

"Morning Sherlock," he said in a friendly-enough manner. Then, giving him a keen eye he asked, "I suppose you haven't changed your mind?"

Looking away from him and instead at the chapel, Sherlock replied casually, "No. And I don't suppose you have either, even after I politely offer my help."

"Sherlock, I appreciate your assistance," Lestrade said, "But I've dealt with serial killers on my own before. You're not the only one who can put two-and-two together you know."

"Yes," Sherlock said, becoming more frustrated by the second, "and yet you still haven't figured out why this killer is going only after brides!"

Leaning in slightly towards him in a confrontational manner, Lestrade retorted, "Well I assure you, we will find out today, given the evidence you've presented."

With the same tone of voice and the same manner, though more competitive than confrontational, Sherlock said, "Then let's hope Sally and Anderson stay out of the way."

Before Lestrade could say another word, Sherlock strode into the chapel, leaving John to be met with the uncomforting looks of Lestrade and the rest of the squad. John was no stranger to these kinds of conversations that could only come from Sherlock's and Lestrade's competitive relationship, but sometimes he wished he could simply be left out of it, mainly so as to avoid results such as these. Still, John managed to say the one thing that came to mind.

"Don't mind me," he shook his head, "I'm simply here for the cake." Without another word from either him for any of the policemen, he turned and followed his friend up the front steps and through the chapel door, wondering what might happen before the day was through. In fact, he was wondering if anything would happen at all.

* * *

Meanwhile, Kate and her family were stepping into the inner part of the chapel, where the wedding itself would be held. Though Kate was now older, and therefore taller, it still looked like one long hallway, with marble columns decorated with spiraling greenery and white flowers on either side and large stained-stained glass windows that let the daylight in. The polished wooden pews each had a fresh bouquet of white roses and long draperies connected them to match, and the large organ with long brass pipes stretching up to the ceiling stood in the back. But she saw that three musicians, one with a guitar, one with a violin, and one with a clarinet in the front. And, as Kate guessed before, none of the dozens of people that already filled the pews looked even remotely her age, letting her only release another frustrated sigh. Still, she somewhat appreciated their fine clothing, the women mostly wearing dresses of white, black, or pale colours along with all sorts of jewelry, and the men wearing handsome suits much like her dad's.

She sat down with her dad and aunt in right pew in the back. Even from there, Kate could see that neither the minister, nor Mr. Livingston, or any of the groomsmen had arrived, leading her to conclude that the wait would be a considerably long one. In an attempt to pass the time, she decided to look around and get familiar with her surroundings, even test her deductive skills which she was trying to improve. Whereas Sherlock Holmes seemed naturally gifted to put two seemingly unrelated things together, like most people, she had to learn how to do that. But she liked the challenge and the brain work, even if she did think she might be wrong.

Just then, she heard above the chatter that filled the area a low yet loud sound. Kate turned her head, and was somewhat dismayed to discover that her aunt had fallen asleep, and was snoring! Granted she was a fifty-year-old woman, but did she have to provide such a distraction on this day of all days?! All Kate could do was put her head in her hand and give a slightly louder sigh of frustration than before. She was comforted only by the fact that she just saw the frown on her dad's face, obviously indicating he wasn't too pleased about this either.

Suddenly though, another sound reached Kate's ears, the sound of footsteps against the floor behind her. Immediately, she lifted her head and turned it, and was just as quickly greeted by a black coat. She looked up to see who it was, and her eyes instantly widened when she saw that it was not one man, but two. And one of them she instantly recognized as Sherlock Holmes! She previously thought that he might be wearing a disguise, to set a trap for the killer. But once she saw his high cheekbones, ruffled dark hair, and piercing greyish-green eyes, she knew it was him. And the shorter man beside him had another face she recognized, from the profile photograph on his blog. Dr. John Watson. Kate quickly realized that she was letting out an excited gasp, so she replaced it with a fake cough, putting her hand in front of her face to prevent drawing attention to herself.

She saw them stand together behind the pew just across from her, and desperately hoped they would catch her staring at them, as she was already feeling a blush rise in her cheeks. How much more handsome Mr. Holmes was in person. How tempting it was to go over to them and introduce herself, to show them her own deductive reasoning, to tell them how much she admired him…suddenly, she got some sense back into her confused brain, not only because of propriety, but also because she remembered she had a case to investigate. She turned around and leaned forward toward her dad, before whispering so as not to wake her aunt, "Psst! Dad!"

He too leaned forward, an inquisitive look on his face.

With a slightly nervous heart, Kate asked, "Would you mind if I went outside for a short walk?"

She was desperately hoping he'd say "yes," for if he said otherwise, there would be no chance of changing his mind. Yet, in spite of her expectations, after thinking it over, he nodded. "I suppose not," he replied, "But don't go anywhere you're not supposed to. And don't take too long."

Smiling an eager and relieved smile, Kate nodded back. "I won't," she assured him, "And I'll be back soon."

Kate turned around, pulled off her purse, and left it where she sat as she stood from the pew, which was thankfully nearest to the back doorway, before she walked out of the inner chapel and into the hallways beyond.

She hoped not to come across any policemen, for surely they would order her to turn back. For now, her goal was to get outside, as she obviously could not go into the room where the bride and her maids were preparing. That was where all of the previous brides were last seen before they were kidnapped, but today, Kate would have to settle for the next best thing, if she could get it at all. Still, as she weaved her way through the maze of seemingly endless halls, the only people she saw were the bridesmaids at the end of the hall to her left. She smiled softly both at how they chatted with one another, and that they didn't notice her as she walked past.

Before long, she breathed a low sigh of relief when she found exactly what she was looking for, a side exit to the outside. She had no intention of going out the front, since she would be seen, and very likely opposed, by the police. Still, she looked back, and once she saw no one watching her, she slipped through the door. Kate shivered as soon as she felt a blow of the unusually cold autumn wind, and quickly wrapped her coat more snuggly around her. She then looked left and right to make sure the coast was clear, before she walked to the left which led to the lands behind the chapel.

For a while, she walked along the side of the chapel, passing two windows before coming to a third, medium-sized with white panes and lace curtains on the inside. Judging by the somewhat chatter she could hear from the inside, she guessed it to be the room where the bride and her maids were getting ready. Immediately though, Kate wished that she had access to it, to be able to search through it. Unfortunately, even if she did, she knew that the police by now had most likely beaten her to most of the evidence. She'd read almost every article on the case she could find, and doubted she'd find anything new. But if there was anything she'd learned from Sherlock Holmes, it was how to look for evidence where one least expected it.

Well, maybe if she couldn't see any visible evidence from here, maybe she could look for it somewhere else. Someone else on the grounds, perhaps? Kate didn't recall reading about any witnesses other than the grooms and the wedding participants. She noted how the grounds behind the chapel stretched for several hundred years beyond it, covered with cut grass still retaining a bit of summer green, decorated here and there with groups of trees with browning leaves, beyond which of course lay the cemetery. Surely with lands as large as these, there had to be at least one person hired to tend to them, especially a small garden of rather lovely flowers she saw just a few yards away.

Curious, she hastened over to it, holding onto her coat against the wind, until her eyes beheld clearly a somewhat unique garden of white flowers streaked as if by an artist's paint with red. Now even more interested, she put her feet together, and knelt down, one hand holding her coat, and the other reaching out toward the nearest flower, until she suddenly heard a male voice call out, "'Ey!"

Instantly, Kate looked up, gasping, loosing her footing, and falling backward as she did so. In response to her now rapid heartbeat, she quickly scrambled back on her feet, and yet was somewhat surprised to find that the man – at least as old as her aunt, with cropped grey hair, and a pair of shears in his hands – had his pale blue eyes only on the flowers before her as he ran her way. With little to no trouble she expected he'd have at that age, he knelt down, as though to make sure the flowers were alright, before he finally stood – about as tall as her – to face her.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said in an accent that seemed to be Irish and Cockney at once, "Just don't want anyone messin' with me flowers."

As soon as she'd regained her senses, Kate nodded. "Oh, no, of course not," she said, "I have a friend who's interested in flowers."

"A worthy pursuit it is," the man nodded as he put his shears down on the ground, "Makes you more patient about things."

Thinking she might as well humour him, now that she'd found the sort of person she was looking for, Kate said, "I should think so."

The man then turned his eyes back at her and asked, "And what of you? I suppose you're 'ere for the wedding today?"

"Indeed I am, sir," Kate replied with a nod, "And, I assume you work on the grounds here?"

"Aye," the man nodded in understanding, "Name's Sylvester. But around 'ere they call me 'Sly.'"

"I'm Kate," Kate said, deciding on a whim to tell him her own name, despite the warnings she'd been given growing up not to to strangers.

"Well then," the man, Sly, proceeded, "if you're here for the wedding, what you doin' out 'ere?"

"I thought I'd go out for a sniff of air," Kate replied. Then, knowing that she'd found what she was searching for and deciding not to let too rare an opportunity slip her by, she added, "And I thought I might get some research done too."

"Research?" Sly asked, raising his eyebrows curiously, "On what?"

"For a, school project, if you will," Kate replied, using the explanation closest to the truth she could think of, "You see, I've decided only recently to gather some unique information regarding the curious case of the 'Bride Butcher.'"

His eyebrows stooped again, leading him to ask in an intrigued tone of voice, "The 'Bride Butcher?' An odd but, interesting choice."

"I thought I'd go for something unusual," Kate explained, trying to smile, "And since you work here, pardon the pun, but you seem to be just the right man for the job."

In spite of her expectations, for the second time since she'd first met him, Sly smiled until it broke loose in a chuckle. "Indeed," he seemed to agree, "You have a good sense of humour ma'am."

Kate's own smile grew slightly. "Thank you," she said, "You wouldn't mind then if I asked you a question or two?"

"Sure, why not?" Sly replied, "Go ahead, ask away."

"Well," Kate said in the most professional manner she could conjure, choosing her words carefully, "have you seen any strange persons or strange activity in the past few weeks?"

"H'mm." Sly donned a thinking expression before shrugging his shoulders and replying, "Can't really say I 'ave."

Kate frowned in both disappointment and confusion. Apparently though, Sly must have seen her look, because he then said in a low voice, "Between you and me though, let's say I had a bit of an excitin' experience a couple o' weeks ago."

With renewed curiosity and interest, Kate raised her eyebrows, eager to know what he was about to reveal to her. "Really?" she asked, "What happened?"

Sly looked left and right, as if to make certain they weren't being watched, before he looked back at her and said in the same low voice as before, "It happened in the early mornin' when I was comin' out 'ere for a shift. I was somewhere near 'ere, tendin' to me flowers, when I suddenly 'eard some queer voices I 'adn't 'eard before."

Kate nodded, silently urging him to continue, knowing she was on to something juicy.

"So I decided to look into it," Sly went on, "At first, I didn't find anythin'. But I still 'eard 'em, 'eard 'em talkin' about how they were gonna kill some woman."

Kate's eyes widened as soon as she heard those last few words. Now she was all-ears.

"So I said to 'em, 'Bugger off! Get outta 'ere or you're gonna get some of me shovel!'" Sly continued, "And it wasn't long before I felt one of 'em grab me. I couldn't see his face, but I could smell alcohol as if he was made of the stuff. Then there was another one. I couldn't see his 'ole face either, but I could see that one of his eyes was cloudy. Obviously blind. Still, I fought the best I could, threatenin' 'em like there was no tomorrow, until I managed to break free! I ran as quick as I could until I got to the shed, 'idden by group of trees, bless me luck! There I waited until I 'eard 'em no more. And I've been watchin' for 'em ever since."

Kate listened with great intent the whole time as Sly told his story, never once daring to interrupt him. Only when she was certain he was finished did she at last speak. "You're sure you couldn't see their faces?" she asked, wanting to know more.

"They had black scarves wrapped around 'em," Sly replied, "As for the rest of their clothes, they wore nothin' but black."

Now that she had a wealth of information at her very own disposal, Kate was almost too excited to speak any further. Indeed, she wondered if she could keep it to herself for one day, even if she was usually good at keeping secrets. Oh, and if either Sherlock Holmes himself, or even her father knew what she was doing…Wait, her father! Was he still waiting for her, wondering wildly where she was? Instantly Kate felt the excited beat of her heart turn into one of great nervousness, urging her to ask, "What time is it?"

As if feeling her same anxiety, Sly replied, "Uh, I think it's gettin' close to ten, I believe."

Kate's eyes grew as large as saucers. "Oh no, the wedding's about to start!" she exclaimed, "I have to go!" Quickly, she spun around, and began running through the grass back the way she came. Still, her usual need to be polite caused her to turn back around toward Sly and call out, "Thank you, by the way!"

"My pleasure!" Sly called back, "But if you have to name a source, you didn't 'ear it from me!"

Smiling with a smirk, knowing this was probably one of the biggest projects she ever worked on, Kate nodded. "Thanks again!" she said. She then turned around one more time, and resumed running back through the grounds and toward the chapel, hoping she would find her way back in time and before her dad called the police on her.

As soon as she got to the door that she passed through earlier, Kate rushed quickly but discreetly through the halls, hoping desperately that she wouldn't get lost in them or crash into anybody. She also once again hoped not to come across any policemen, who would immediately ask her what she was doing out here. Fortunately though, whether by sheer luck or very good memory, she spotted the bridesmaids getting in line next to the doorway that had to lead to the inner chapel itself. Breathing a sigh of relief but wasting no further time, Kate hurried past the women, paying them no heed, and quickly made it to the doorway. With great relief she found her aunt and her dad sitting exactly where she'd left them, in the first pew in the back to the right. She hastily sat back down next to her aunt, who was instantly jolted awake.

"Oh! What, what happened?" she asked with now wide eyes, clearly bewildered.

"Nothing Aunt Georgie," Kate quickly assured her, "But the wedding's gonna start soon so I'd try to stay awake."

"What about you?" her dad suddenly asked, "Where have you been? I was about to come looking for you."

"I told you Dad," Kate replied, "I was taking a walk, getting some air. And, I lost track of the time."

For a moment, her dad looked confused, but Kate then noticed how he suddenly looked almost as if he were, sad? "Oh, oh I see," he then said as he nodded.

Now it was Kate's turn to be confused. She couldn't help but wonder what he meant by what he said. All she did was go out and walk to… Oh. Now she understood. He thought she'd gone to visit her mum's grave in the cemetery. Well, part of her had wanted to when she left. If only she wasn't preoccupied with this case at hand. Still, she did learn some valuable information that neither the police nor Sherlock Holmes likely knew. So she couldn't see it as a complete loss. Well, the wedding was about to start, so now she had to wait and see if anything would happen.

* * *

Of course, Kate wasn't the only one waiting. Across from her behind the pew on the left, although he'd been to several scenes like this because of a case, John was beginning to get rather impatient and frustrated, as he once again failed to understand his friend's determination to catch something that might not have been here after all.

"Okay," he finally said, feeling the need to have his voice be heard, "I have two theories."

Sherlock turned to him with curious, raised eyebrows. "Really? What about?" he asked.

"Well, either one, you're psychic, or two, you're paranoid," John replied with just a hint of a smirk.

Sherlock frowned at him in confusion. "I'm afraid I fail to see what you're talking about," he said.

After letting out a sigh of frustration, John explained, "I'm sorry but, _I_ fail to see how you're going to catch the killer here and today. I mean, for all we know, the killer could be any one of the people here."

"Ah good, you're catching on," Sherlock nodded.

"Sorry?" John asked, now even more confused than before.

"Well, for one thing, you're right," Sherlock noted, "It could be anyone in this chapel, but I will tell you a secret." After lowering his voice so only he and John could hear him speak, he said, "Geniuses don't stop being smart, even when drunk. Trust me, I've seen it before."

He spoke with such seriousness that John couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and widen his eyes as he turned his head, as he didn't have a clever response to that. It wasn't long though before he heard Sherlock say, "You do look nice though."

John immediately turned his head back, and after looking his friend over, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Thank you. So do you." Both he and Sherlock then turned their eyes forward, John staring straight ahead while Sherlock was prepared to catch anything unusual.

In that moment, John remembered that even though Sherlock sometimes had weird explanations, they rarely failed to lead them to the root of the problem. Even if he didn't have Sherlock's natural gift of deduction, their past cases together taught him not to just throw him off every time. Still, he wished that they would just get on with the ceremony. He was beginning to somewhat tire of all of this building suspense.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, spent rather tensely for Sherlock, John, and Kate, the groom, Mr. Harris Livingston, and his men finally arrived, all wearing black tuxedos with handsome white ties. Along with them came the minister, a somewhat older man also wearing a black tuxedo, but with a blue shirt and long black tie. Now that they'd finally come and took their places at the very front of the aisle, the three musicians picked up their instruments and began to play, while all the eyes of everyone in the pews turned to the back to watch the wedding's participants come down the aisle.

Kate watched as the flower girl, a rather cute girl of about six years of age, came first. Her blond hair, which held a crown of pink and white flowers, fell to her shoulders in curls. She wore a pink and white dress with ruffles and walked forward, toward her father Kate guessed, while throwing out white rose petals. After her came the ringbearer, a boy just as cute, probably the same age, wearing a small grey suit and carrying a small blue pillow holding the rings. Following him came the bridesmaids, dressed in long, luxurious, satiny pale pink dresses, holding bouquets of all sorts of white flowers. One, two, three, and then four came, until, finally, the minister called for everyone to stand.

Kate, her family, and all the guests in the big room stood from their seats, and turned their curious eyes to the back doorway, to watch the bride herself come down the aisle, wearing a flowing white dress, blushing underneath a veil covering her face, and being led to her husband-to-be by her father. But as the next few seconds ticked by, Kate and the rest saw none of those three sights, not even a glimpse. That was when the voices of almost everyone in the chapel rose up in soft, unified concern. Indeed, it wasn't long before Kate saw one of the bridesmaids hurry back down the aisle, a troubled look on her face, and her rapid footsteps reflecting Kate's own increasing pulse.

Ten anxious minutes later, the woman came back just as she'd left, alone. Almost everyone in the chapel watched as she rushed to the minister, and almost frantically whisper something in his ear. Even from where she sat, Kate could see his eyes widen with shock, and ask in the same tone of voice, "What do you mean the bride's missing?" Immediately, the anxious voices of the crowds came together to cause a great big gasp to erupt. Kate watched with her own wide eyes as the minister proceeded to try and keep things under control, if such a thing were possible.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm," he said in a loud but nervous voice, "This sort of thing happens more often than you think."

But his attempts did little, if anything, to persuade the people, who immediately began speaking to one another in great anxiety. One voice in particular, though, quickly stood out above all the others. Even in the back, Kate heard Mr. Livingston cry in disbelief, "How can you expect me to be calm? Christine is missing!" She then turned to her own family once she realised they were just as stricken with anxiety as the rest of the guests.

"I thought you said the police had it under control!" her aunt said.

"I said that they would be ready to act if anything went wrong," her dad tried to persuade her.

"Well, now look what's happened! How do we know one of us isn't next?!"

"Georgie, please!" he implored. Suddenly, he looked up at Mr. Livingston, causing Kate to look up as well. She saw that he was waving at him, as if inviting him to come to where he was. She then turned back at her dad, and saw him looking back at her aunt, and paying her almost no attention.

"Georgie, if it would make you feel better, you can come with me," he said. He then moved forward past Kate, and her aunt quickly followed suit. For a moment, Kate watched as they hurried down the aisle toward Mr. Livingston, wondering why they didn't offer her the chance to come with them, when, suddenly, she thought of an idea. Under normal circumstances, she might have been offended at the way her dad simply left her. But today, perhaps she could use it to her advantage. After making sure no one else was watching her, including Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, whom she saw were now making their own way down the aisle toward Mr. Livingston, Kate took up her purse, and just like before, she slipped through the doorway and into the hall.

She rushed as fast as she could through them, hoping she'd be able to navigate her way like earlier, and that she would find something new to help with this case that had suddenly become much more intense. She also hoped that neither her dad nor aunt would discover that she was gone. Fortunately though, if she was lucky, she wouldn't be gone long. And soon enough, after countless heart-pounding steps, Kate found the room where she saw the bridesmaids standing outside before. For a moment, she wondered if the bride, Christine, had been there all along. Then again, her own maid-of-honour couldn't find her, so how could she?

Knowing she couldn't back out of this though, Kate ran for the closed door. She was surprised to find that it wasn't locked, and although she'd prepared herself to see anything, she still let out a gasp when she saw what was inside. No one was in the cream-coloured room, the windows were now open, allowing a haunting wind to lift up the linen curtains and blow inside. And there, lying on the middle of the floor, was a wispy, almost ghost-like train of white gossamer that she assumed to be the bride's veil, with sinister-looking red blotches coating half of it, standing out like snow in the summer. _Blood?_

With trembling fingers but also a sense of urgency, Kate got down on one knee, continuing to stare at the bloody veil. For a moment, she debated whether or not she should even touch it at all, because if she did, her fingerprints would be found once crime scene investigators got hold of it. So she settled for an alternative. Deciding now to think like Sherlock Holmes would, Kate carefully scanned the veil, looking for the slightest abnormal detail that would give her a vital clue. And it didn't take long for her to find it.

She noticed a line of a few spots on one of the edges of the veil that seemed slightly darker than the rest of the red blotches. Could this have meant something? Or was she simply imagining it? Shortly after thinking of these questions, Kate turned her head the moment she heard what sounded like a man's shout in the hallways behind her. Only then had she realised that she hadn't closed the door. And yet, that moment of surprise had somehow given her an idea. Knowing that she'd probably found a crucial clue, Kate also knew that she had to obtain it, and soon, she found out how.

Pressing her foot on one side of the veil with the darkened area, Kate then began to pull on it, gritting her teeth as she did so. On the third try, she pulled as hard as she could, and heard the sound of a tear reach her ears before stumbling to the floor. She then saw that she was holding a small piece of the veil, with the dark spots on it. And if there was someone in the halls behind her, there was no knowing how much trouble she might get into. Kate then quickly stuffed the piece of the veil inside her purse, and hoisted it over her shoulder before getting back on her feet and hastening back through the halls.

But just as she was turning the second corner, Kate instantly ran into someone, causing her to take two somewhat uneasy steps back. "Oh, sorry!" she said quickly, but then, when she looked up to see whom she had bumped into, Kate felt almost as though she would faint. It was Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and once she saw that he was looking at her, with his sharp, grey eyes that almost seemed to pierce right through to her now rapidly beating heart, she immediately wished she could simply escape inside the floor underneath her.

"No problem, my bad," he said, his voice so deep and aristocratic she found herself wishing he'd say more. Without another word though, he moved past her, continuing down the next hall with Dr. Watson at his side, leaving Kate to watch with near disbelief at what had just happened. Not exactly the way she'd imagined first meeting Mr. Holmes, and certainly not the first words she wanted to say to him. Suddenly though, Kate remembered that she had to get back to the inner chapel, otherwise her family might miss her. Reluctantly, she turned back, and began rushing just as before back through the hallways, without, thankfully, running into anyone else, until she finally made it back.

Luck seemed to continue to smile down on Kate, because she saw both her dad and her aunt still speaking to Mr. Livingston. Curious as to what exactly they were talking about, she briskly walked down the aisle, tuning out the anxious and distracting voices of the wedding guests she met at every pew, until she was finally beside her aunt, who looked even more frantic and high-strung than before. When she turned to see her niece, she looked somewhat relieved, but Kate was focused on the conversation going on between her dad and Mr. Livingston.

"Do you have any idea what I'll go through if anything happened to Christine?" he asked, looking as though he might be going insane already.

Her dad himself looked anxious, though probably more from trying to comfort his friend. "I understand Harris," he said, "But you have to trust that these people are doing the best they can."

Kate opened her mouth to speak, deciding now would be a good time to get some more information, when she was suddenly interrupted by her aunt.

"James," she said, trying to remain calm, "pardon the interruption but, I'm afraid I don't feel safe here. Would you mind letting me borrow the car?"

"Are you sure you want to leave?" he asked, "Will you be alright?"

"Yes," she assured him, "I just have the sense that I'll feel better when I get home."

She then turned to her niece, and asked, "Kate, would you be willing to come with me? I'd like to have someone with me."

Kate was about to say "no," when she suddenly found herself considering her aunt's offer. Mr. Holmes had seen her coming from the direction of the bridal room, thus possibly letting unwanted suspicion land on herself. And even though only she had all this valuable information, something within her urged her to share it with her best friends, if not the whole club. This was quite possibly their first official case after all. Maybe she could alert them somehow.

Kate turned back to her aunt, and nodded. "If it makes you feel better Aunt Georgie," she said. She then turned to her dad when she heard him sigh.

"Alright," he said, looking weary from all of the tension around him, "Here are the keys. Just, please, please be careful."

Kate watched as her aunt quickly took the keys from him, and then turned to follow her down the aisle and toward the back doorway, her right hand firmly holding the straps of her purse, determined to keep it close by. Before too long, after going through another seemingly endless series of hallways, she and her aunt made it to the front entrance of the chapel, the doors still open, letting the air, which now seemed even colder than before, flow into the building. Indeed, it almost seemed to bite at Kate's bare skin as she and her aunt went through the doorway and continued to make their way toward the car nearby. Kate climbed into the left seat while her aunt climbed into the right, and soon, they were on the road through the city of Westminster, which now seemed even greyer and more ominous than usual.

Both her aunt and Kate hoped her dad would be alright, but while her aunt turned her focus on driving, Kate took out her phone, and quickly composed an important message, hoping to get across the urgency of the situation using only words.

_Important. Emergency meeting at the local library near Edgware at 13:30. Eleanor, bring blood-testing materials._

She then sent it not only to Rose and Lucy, but to all nine of the girls. And soon, one by one, she received a reply from both her best friends and fellow club members. And to her great relief, all of them, in their own words, gave the answer of "yes." But now though, having gone through so much in just one morning, all Kate could do was let out a tired sigh, and lean back against the car seat as her aunt drove them along toward home.

* * *

After his rough encounter with that girl, Sherlock Holmes returned his focus onto the situation at hand. The moment he heard that the bride was missing, he immediately wanted to leap into action. Unfortunately, John reminded him that common courtesy demanded he ask the groom if he could examine the bride's room. Luckily, the groom gave his permission, and Sherlock wasted no time in beginning his journey down the hall, John following him the whole way. Why that girl had to interrupt him he did not know, but now that she was out of the way, he could get down to the bottom of this perplexing mystery.

Soon, he made it to the bride's room, the door to which, oddly enough, was open. Ignoring it though, he quickly strode inside, and both he and John immediately eyed a long white veil that seemed to be half-coated in bright red blood. Sherlock wasn't too scathed by it, as he'd seen sights similar to these before, but for his colleague, no matter how many times he'd seen it, he always seemed to bear the weight of an uncomfortable burden whenever he laid sight on a bloody crime scene.

"Sherlock," he breathed. But his friend ignored him. He got down on one knee, took out the gloves he brought with him, and quickly pulled them on before gently taking up the red veil in his hands. He slowly looked it over, his searching eyes never once straying from it in that almost superhuman way of his, before he reached a dramatic conclusion.

"It's happened again," he murmured with a tone to match. Looking back at John with narrowed eyes, he declared, "The killer's been here."

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	5. Chapter the Fourth

**Kate and the Bloody Veil**

Chapter the Fourth

About two hours later, at half-past noon, Kate breathed a sigh of great relief as she pulled her bike up to the front steps of the large library just outside of Edgware, where hopefully her friends and fellow club members waited for her inside. Traveling the road here wasn't difficult. She used to come here all the time when she was younger. The only real difficulty was convincing her aunt to let her go. She obviously couldn't tell her about sneaking into the bride's room to get the piece of the veil, so she once again had to settle for something else nearest to the truth. On the third attempt to get permission, Kate told her aunt that she had to go to the library for something school-related. When her aunt asked how it was related to school, Kate told her it was a project she was working on. Surprisingly, it worked. Reluctantly, her aunt allowed her one hour at the library, more than enough time, fortunately, to get this meeting over and done with. Now that she'd changed clothes and rode over there with no trouble, all Kate had to do was look for everyone.

She quickly texted Rose and Lucy, letting them know she was there. She soon got a reply, telling her to meet them in the study room on the second floor, reserved mainly for Sixth Form and University students if they needed a quick place to go to. Kate then put her phone back inside her purse, parked her bike near the front flight of stairs, and quickly hurried up the stone steps, her vision almost blurring due to her intense focus on getting this case addressed and, eventually, settled.

Knowing the library from the first floor to the third, even though she hadn't been there in awhile, Kate wasted no time making her way up. She went to the nearest lift located near the entrance on the first floor, and pressed the number 2 for the second floor. For perhaps the longest lift ride of her life, and since she was alone, she impatiently stepped in place a few times, much as she imagined a Thoroughbred would before he was released from the gate for the race. In this case, it was a race to solve this mystery before anything too bad happened.

Luckily, it didn't take much long before the ride ended and the doors opened. Kate hastened out of the lift and onto the second floor, where she proceeded to look for the room. After a couple of wrong turns which she thought would take her to it, she finally found the study room, where she let out another sigh, this time both in relief and frustration that had been satiated. Through the window, she smiled as she saw that all eleven girls were sitting inside, chatting, waiting for her. Like before, she was the last to arrive. Fortunately, this time, she wasn't late.

Kate opened the door, and the eyes of both her friends immediately flew to her while the rest continued on in whatever conversations they were having. As for Rose and Lucy, neither wasted any time in hastening to her and asking the questions they so desired to be answered.

With both concerned eyes and tone of voice, Rose asked, "Why did you call this meeting? What's happened?"

"Nobody's hurt, at least, no one I know," Kate assured her with a tinge of nervousness. After regaining composure, she said, "I'll explain in a moment."

She then turned to Lucy, and, trying to smile once she met her own small one, she asked, "Did you bring the gavel?"

"Right here!" Lucy replied as she pulled it out of her purse. But as she gave the wooden-mallet to Kate, she glanced at the rest of the girls, and frowned as she drew an important conclusion before turning back to her. "I suggest that you start this meeting now though."

Kate nodded, and quickly stood in front of the middle of the table, since there was no podium, while Rose and Lucy sat on either side of her. Standing up straight, Kate called the meeting to order, but the girls barely, if at all, acknowledged her. Again, she called, "Order, everyone, order!" Again, little to no response. Well, she did have the gavel in her hand. Pressing her lips together in frustration, Kate tightened her grip on it, raised it into the air, and let it down on the table. The loud banging noise that emanated from the impact immediately caused all nine to turn toward her, some of them putting their hands to their ears. Fortunately though, all of them had ceased their conversations, leading Kate to smile in satisfaction.

"Thank you," she said. She then tucked loose strands of hair behind both her ears and then said, "Now, you're all probably wondering why I've called you here."

"Right," Marianne spoke up, "You interrupted my weekly shopping trip."

Kate fought the temptation to roll her eyes. "Well, no offense Marianne but, not all of us go shopping every weekend."

Marianne raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry. I didn't mean to," she apologized.

Now that that was out of the way, Kate turned her attention to the rest of the girls in front of her and declared, "I didn't just call you in here for anything. I am surprised yet, somewhat pleased to say we have our very first case."

Though she raised her hand, Sylvia didn't wait until she was called on before she said, "Let me guess. Someone stole your bike?"

Needless to say, that earned her a slight elbow nudge from her twin, which instantly prevented her from saying anything else.

"No Sylvia," Kate said as she slowly shook her head like a disapproving adult, "But I do have our first piece of evidence." She then took up her purse she left on the table behind her, and in front of the somewhat eager eyes of all the girls both in front and behind her, she quickly took out the evidence, and held it up high so everyone could see it. Immediately, all of them raised their eyebrows at what she held, but no one spoke a word.

Feeling a nervous sense of awkwardness at the sudden silence, Kate attempted to break it by saying, "Ta-da."

Fortunately, this time, she soon received a response, though at first in the form of a skeptical smirk, from Juliet. "A torn piece of red fabric?" she asked.

"Not just any fabric," Kate replied as she lowered it. Attempting to stay as serious as possible, despite the nervous chuckle within her, she added, "This was part of a bride's veil."

Stella, sitting in the back as usual, raised her hand, and waited until she was called on. "But, wait," she said, "What are you doing with a piece of a veil?"

"Well," Kate replied, pausing in hesitation for whether or not she was about to release some major news, "I don't know if Rose or Lucy told any of you, but I've decided to look into the case regarding the 'Bride Butcher.' Most of you have seen or heard reports, I'm sure."

"Wait!" Louise suddenly called out in wide-eyed alarm, "You mean, _the_ 'Bride Butcher?' The one who kidnapped three brides in a row on their wedding days?"

Kate nodded, but before she could say anything, Louise's alarm quickly spread like a contagious virus, affecting each of the girls who turned to each other began speaking rapidly and worriedly to one another, their voices coming together and rising in an incoherent blur of hysterics. Before things could get too out of control though, Kate reached for her gavel, knowing that merely calling for attention would not work, and let it down on the table a second time.

"Order, please," she said, trying not to grit her teeth. In response to both the gavel and her voice, all nine faces immediately stopped talking and turned their attention back to her. But even then, not all of their voices could remain silent for long.

"Kate, we can't get involved!" Phoebe spoke up, "What if our parents find out?"

"Or what if that guy finds us before we find him?" Alicia added.

Knowing they would say things like this, Kate had earlier prepared some responses. "We just got in on it," she said, "I get your concerns but I promise you, I've got it under control. Besides, didn't we discuss this just a few days ago?"

"_Si_," Alicia replied in Spanish, "But I didn't think we'd get so deep in something this dangerous so fast."

"Well if it makes you feel better, neither did I," Kate tried to compensate, "And if things do get too out of hand, I'll call for help. Anonymously, of course."

What she failed to notice, however, were the raised eyebrows of her best friends sitting right behind her. The two exchanged silent glances at each other, wondering if Kate really did have it all under control as she said she did, but then they continued to listen.

"Well, besides that," Abigail said, "what makes you think you're going to catch this guy when neither the police nor even Sherlock Holmes have yet?"

"Believe it or not," Kate replied as she turned to face her, "I have evidence I'm sure neither knows of, this piece of the bride's veil being part of it. Speaking of which, Eleanor?"

Eleanor, who had been ready and waiting to voice her own opinions, raised her eyebrows once she heard her name.

"Did you bring the materials I asked for?" Kate asked, attempting to make her smile by smiling herself.

Eleanor, who didn't return it, took up the bag that had been sitting on the floor next to her. "Unfortunately," she said as she then stood up and made her way to the table. Kate turned toward her, and everyone in the room watched with curious eyes as Eleanor carefully took out the equipment she knew they'd need. She brought a small towel, q-tips, and three small bottles labeled "alcohol," "phenolphthalein," and "hydrogen peroxide."

She then turned to Kate and gave her a stern look. "I had to practically smuggle these out of my dad's cabinet," she said, "So if I get caught, I'm blaming you."

Kate slowly shrugged her shoulders, smiling an awkward smile. "No worries," she said, "Pleasure's all mine." She then noticed Eleanor gesturing for the piece of the veil, and quickly passed it to her while Eleanor pulled on a pair of gloves she'd also brought with her.

"Well, first things first," she said, "How, where, and when did you get this?"

"I was at a wedding this morning, a friend of my dad's," Kate explained, loud enough for everyone to hear, "When I heard the bride was missing, I decided to go and search her room myself."

"All by yourself?" Eleanor asked, her somewhat wide eyes giving away her surprise.

"Yes," Kate admitted with slight reluctance, "But, all that I found there was what I believed to be her veil, and half of it was covered in blood. I obviously couldn't take the whole thing with me, so I took a sample of my own. And I chose this part because the blood looked slightly darker than the rest."

"Hmm," Eleanor frowned. Then, after pausing for a moment to think, she said, "That could be very important. You might be on to something after all."

Kate raised her eyebrows and regained her smile for the moment. "Well, thank you," she said. But Eleanor didn't reply. Instead, Kate, and the rest of the girls, no matter where they sat, watched as Eleanor began her testing of the red substance found on the torn piece of the veil. The previous year, she and Kate had taken a forensics class together, and towards the end of the year, this was one of the many experiments they learned: testing real blood like crime-scene investigators. It was relatively simple, and Eleanor decided to test the lighter part first.

She began by rubbing a q-tip on the red substance, and then applied a few drops of alcohol, followed by the same amount of phenolphthalein, and hydrogen peroxide. Kate's and Eleanor's eyes were then glued on the edge of the q-tip for the next few seconds, to see what colour it would change into. By the time those seconds ended though, it didn't take long for Eleanor to reach a confusing, almost alarming verdict.

"That's odd," she said as she continued to look, blinking several times to make sure she was seeing rightly.

"What's wrong?" Kate asked, obviously eager to know.

"Well, the tip isn't pink," Eleanor replied, "In fact, it's barely red at all."

"So, what does that mean?" Lucy suddenly spoke up, voicing everyone's curiosity.

Eleanor turned to Lucy, then to Kate, and then to the rest of the club, giving blank looks at all of them before she declared, "It means this so-called 'blood' is fake."

Eyebrows instantly stooped and eyes quickly widened in surprise. Her disturbed bewilderment instantly seemed to ripple out to the sea of faces, which could only turn to one another and ask each other what she meant. Kate herself didn't know what to say, and would have gotten lost in her own tunnel of hazy thought and unanswered questions, when Rose suddenly spoke up above everyone else.

"That doesn't make any sense," she said, "Why would the killer cover the veil with fake blood?"

"Well, she still hasn't tested the other part," Lucy pointed out, "The part that's darker."

"Right," Eleanor nodded. She then repeated the routine, rubbing the q-tip, and adding a few drops of the three substances, and waited for a few seconds to see what result she would get. Before long, as the colour slowly began to appear, her eyes began to widen in alarm with each passing moment.

"Look at this!" she said, pointing to the edge, "It's pink! That means this portion is real!"

Kate's eyes flew to the q-tip, and just as Eleanor said, the edge of it was a bright pale pink. She quickly rubbed both her eyes to make sure she was seeing it correctly, while murmurs of wonder and confusion rose up like mist on an early spring day from the small crowd of eight in front of her. But she didn't hear them, instead, she was taken back into that place in her mind that seemed undecipherable, simply boggled by all that had happened and all that she'd just seen. _Real blood mixed with fake blood? _she asked silently, _But, how? And why?_

"Well Kate," Eleanor then said, "you're in charge of the case, what's your deduction?"

Once she heard her name Kate looked back up at Eleanor from her broken train of thought, and suddenly began a new one when she heard her question. For a moment, she silently looked at the piece of the veil and then the result of the tests on the edges of the q-tips still in Eleanor's hand. She then tried to replay the morning's events in her head, from her walk in the garden, to the groom's panic, to discovering the veil in the bride's room, and before long, fortunately, she believed she'd reached a conclusion.

"Well, based on what we've found so far," Kate said, "I think we have at least three suspects. One is the bride who, in probably a very bad case of pre-wedding fright, decided to fake her own death and leave the groom at the altar. Number two, unfortunately, is the groom himself, who, may have hired a hitman."

She hesitated somewhat in saying those last few words. But even though she didn't think Mr. Livingston would stoop so low, Kate had heard horror stories of grooms who had their brides killed shortly after their wedding for the insurance money, and vice-versa. She'd read that the previous three grooms were also suspects for the murders of their brides, even if there was little to no evidence to convict them. Still, Kate shook her head slightly to regain her focus.

"The third is an unknown party," she continued. Then, turning to face the rest of the society, she said, "I've learned that there were at least two peculiar figures hanging around the place, but I'd have to get more evidence to be sure. For now, if it's alright with the rest of you, I'd appreciate it if you kept your eyes and ears on the alert. We must think like Sherlock Holmes. After all, the society has been named for him."

_"De acuerdo," _Alicia nodded, "But again, if the situation gets too dangerous, we have to get help."

"Of course," Kate nodded back, "You all have permission if you think you need to."

"Okay," Juliet then spoke up, "But, do you mind if we wrap this up? It's getting late and I promised my parents I wouldn't be long."

Kate raised her eyebrows momentarily, as she hadn't exactly realised that so much time could have already passed. Not even bothering to look at the clock, she nodded and said, "Alright then, thank you all for coming, do I hear a motion to adjourn?"

"I do," Marianne said as she raised her hand, "To be perfectly honest this is kind of freaking me out."

Almost everyone nodded and murmured their agreement, whether they simply wanted to get home before they were missed or were sharing in the ominous nature of the situation at hand. Fortunately for them though, Kate quickly called the meeting to adjourn, permitting all nine of the girls to get their things and go on their way to the hallway outside, trying not to form a blockade of bodies at the door.

Meanwhile, Eleanor hastily but carefully put the materials back in her back, making sure they were firmly closed before putting them in.

"Thank you so much Eleanor," Kate then said, "I mean, I probably could have done it myself but…"

"Don't mention it," Eleanor interrupted her with a slight smile, "But like I said, if my dad catches on, you owe me."

"I'll try to remember," Kate said uneasily as Eleanor then took up her bag and walked out the door. As Kate then quickly realised, the only people left in the room were her, Rose, and Lucy, both looking at her intently, almost as if asking what they should do next.

"Thanks for getting all this together," Kate then said, "You two really are such good friends."

"No problem," Rose assured her. But then, as a concerned frown donned itself on her face, she added, "But please tell me you're thinking about the intensity of all this."

"I am, I promise you," Kate nodded, "All I have to do is figure out what the villain's next move is, but of course, to do that, I'd have to know who they are first."

"And just exactly how do you intend to do that?" Lucy asked, raising a single eyebrow.

Kate didn't reply immediately. Instead, she donned a thinking expression as she delved into one of the many chambers of her mind, this one in particular being one of contemplation, critical thinking, and logic. She hadn't yet told her friends about her anonymous source, but if there was strange activity going on near the chapel, then the only thing she really could do was to try and observe it herself. Suddenly, that was when Kate's eyebrows unconsciously began to rise, as an idea in a similar manner arose within her subconscious, slowly making itself known, until she gave a satisfied smile to her friends.

"I have a plan," she declared.

"And what is your plan?" Lucy asked.

"Exciting," Kate replied with a smirk, deciding to return Lucy's usual humour, "After all, you said we need excitement at this time in our lives."

Lucy raised her eyebrows at the response. "Yes, well," she stammered, "You know that everything I say isn't always supposed to be taken seriously."

"Relax," Kate replied, now putting all humour aside, "What I'm going to do, in fact, what all of us are going to do, is observe. Remember the rules of deduction according to Mr. Holmes? Observe everything. From what you observe, deduce. And when you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however mad, must be the truth."

"Right," Rose then nodded after a brief pause of silence. But as she looked straight at her friend with a concerned face, she added, "I just hope you know what you're getting into."

"It'll be alright," Kate promised, "After all, none of us are alone." She then attempted to smile at her friends, and her own smile grew as she watched them slowly return it. Before long, the sentimental atmosphere culminated in the three girls engaging in a sisterly group hug. But as they did, only Kate's smile suddenly began to fade, as she truly allowed Rose's words to sink in. Putting her intentional plan aside, all she knew for sure was that the last thing she wanted was for something to go horribly wrong, all in the name of excitement and adventure.

* * *

Meanwhile, some fifteen kilometers away in the heart of Westminster, in the center of St. Bartholomew's, the oldest hospital in Europe, the great detective Sherlock Holmes was engrossed in the very same case, one that seemed to continue to perplex him at every turn, with every discovery. He was stooping like a hawk over his microscope, his eye gazing intently on every minute detail of the torn part of the veil he'd made off with underneath him. Near him, on the same table in a somewhat disorderly manner, was the third cup of coffee he had in the past half hour, black with two sugars as he usually liked it. Since John had gotten rid of all his patches, he'd had to settle for coffee as an alternate stimulant, and considering the way things were going, he was going to need all the caffeine he could get. Sure, it would keep him up all night, but, he'd done it before.

Suddenly, his ears pricked up as he heard the sound of the nearby door, opening and then closing. Fortunately, he didn't need to look up from his consuming interest to guess who it was. "Ah wonderful," he said, keeping his eye on the veil, "You're back."

John stopped where he was as confusion instantly flashed across his face. "Sorry, how did you know it was me?" he asked.

"It's the way you open and shut doors," Sherlock replied, his gaze still focused on the evidence, "I've practically memorised it by now."

Though John pressed his lips for a moment at his friend's unusual sense of humour, he soon joined his side. But even then, Sherlock remained engaged in his own investigative world, making John cross his arms in annoyance. "Well," he said, "If you're willing to answer my question…"

Immediately, Sherlock looked up from his intense study and flashed a small smile at him. "Yes?"

Not in the mood to be annoyed any further, John asked, "You asked me to stay at the chapel to chat with Mr. Livingston while you went here to inspect the veil?"

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and took up his coffee for another sip. "Well, you're better at speaking with emotional people than I am," he explained, "Apparently I'm 'spectacularly ignorant about some things.'"

"I thought we were past that," John said, "And besides, you don't have to be."

"Well, now's not the time," Sherlock replied. Turning his focus to other, more important matters, he asked, "What did you learn?"

Having gotten used to the speed at which he changed subjects, John replied, "Well, he hasn't known his bride to have mental illness or act in any unusual manner. And he doesn't own firearms or knows anyone who owns them. And he didn't seem all that nervous when telling me and the police."

"Oh John," Sherlock then said, "when a person is used to telling lies they don't have physical reactions. But, even if he was telling the truth, suspicion is no respecter of persons." He then turned to face his friend and added, "As to the bride, it's quite possible that she might have left of her own free will."

John immediately raised a skeptical eyebrow. "How so?" he asked, "Wasn't the veil covered in blood?"

"I did multiple tests," Sherlock explained, "but all of them came back negative. In other words, it's not real."

"Fake blood?" John asked, "So, you're saying, she faked her own death?"

"Possibly," Sherlock replied, "And to add further evidence, there were no signs of a struggle, not even the usual ones I found at the other sites. I couldn't even find any fingerprints. So it's a rather logical conclusion." Suddenly, his eyes narrowed in a suspicious manner. He turned back to the microscope, and lowering his voice, he added, "Unless one hasn't discovered what I just have."

"What?" John asked, his eyes now widened with curiosity. Sherlock then invited him over to the microscope, and urged him to look into it at the torn part of the veil.

"Look at this," he said, "what does it look like to you?"

Without looking back at him, John replied, "A tear. Not exactly hard to catch."

"But the circumstances are to the untrained eye," Sherlock retorted, "The tear itself upon close inspection suggests that it was done recently. Today, in fact. And the mangled threads themselves indicate that it was done in great haste, as if the person didn't want a particular thing about it to be noticed."

"But, but why would the bride want to tear her own veil?" John asked.

"Maybe she wanted to take a souvenir, I don't know!" Sherlock exclaimed sarcastically, "Think John! Think as if the evidence itself is trying to tell you something!"

Not willing to unintentionally agonize him anymore, John decided he might as well do as his friend suggested. He laid his elbows on the table and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to picture the previous morning's events, looking for any abnormality as he'd recently been trained to do. "Well," he soon said, "other than that girl you ran into in the hall, we didn't meet anyone."

When John looked back up at Sherlock, who had been pacing the floor until he spoke up, and found his eyes were now wide and fixed on him. "Say that again," he then said.

"Sorry?" John asked, "You mean, the girl I saw you run into?"

"Yes!" Sherlock replied excitedly, "Exactly! You can go ahead and add her to our list of suspects!"

John once again frowned in both confusion and alarm. "What? Her?" he asked, giving voice to it, "Why her? For all we know she could have been looking for the ladies' room."

"I've been to that chapel before John," Sherlock replied, "The ladies' room is on the left side, we were all on the right. And did you notice her behaviour when she ran into me? She seemed, urgent, almost nervous, like she was hiding something."

"But Sherlock," John objected, "she can't be helping the murderer. She didn't seem more than fifteen, sixteen years old."

Sherlock only looked blankly at the doctor, with those always observing eyes of his, before he asked, "Do you remember Soo Lin Yao? Do you remember how old she said she was when she began smuggling drugs?"

John was about to ask who Soo Lin was, when he frowned depressingly at recalling who that name belonged to, the young and timid Chinese woman who'd helped them on the case of the "Blind Banker" so long ago, and who'd met her fate at the hand of her own brother, a black lotus flower sitting in the palm of her hand when John found her. From then on, he had little to no trouble remembering what she'd told them, how she'd once worked with the Chinese crime ring, a tragic story with an equally tragic end.

"Sixteen or, seventeen years old, I believe," he replied solemnly.

"Indeed," Sherlock nodded with the same tone, "When it comes to crime, age is just a number. But as for the girl herself, do you know who she is?"

"No," John shook his head, "Not at all."

"Well then we must find out who she is, and soon," Sherlock declared. Then, as a new thought entered his mind, he quickly decided to face John again and voice it. "Come to think of it, we should also return to the chapel to investigate further."

"Wait Sherlock, I'm sorry but, this is a bit much to take in all at once," John suddenly said, "For one thing, this girl could be anywhere. And for another, you don't know what else you'll find there, or even if you will find anything else there."

"Exactly," Sherlock countered, "When it comes to being the only consulting detective, certainty and all the evidence you can find are your best mates. As for the chapel, I hope you don't have any plans, because we're going tonight."

"Tonight?" John asked, "Why tonight?"

"Because, the sooner the better, and we'll benefit from the cover of darkness," Sherlock explained. Then, before John could say anything else, he took up the veil from underneath the microscope, and turned and hastened to where he'd left his coat and scarf on the end of the table. Swiftly, he pulled the coat on and wrapped the scarf around his neck, but he quickly realised he was about to leave the room alone. He turned around, gave John a questioning look and asked, "Are you coming?"

Pausing for a moment to regain composure before joining his friend, John replied, "I suppose. I just don't think I'll ever understand how you come to all these conclusions."

"It's alright," Sherlock said, "That's part of the fun."

At that, John could only press his lips together, since he knew that, like the word "normal," Sherlock's definition of "fun" was virtually his own. But as he walked out into the halls with his friend and flatmate, he also knew that only time would tell whether his admittedly bizarre theory of a teenage girl helping a murderer would prove true, as well as the consequences that would undoubtedly ensue.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._

_A/N: For those of you who read my story "Not Your Average Cinderella." I'm holding a fanart contest to see what you had in mind. It can be a character such as Aska, the Purple Phantom, Loki, etc., your favorite scene in the story, or anything relating to it you want to make art out of. You can send it to me at my DeviantArt username "LadyInTheMask710" and I'll get it featured on my page._


	6. Chapter the Fifth

**Kate and the Bloody Veil**

Chapter the Fifth

"Here you go Mummy," Kate tried to smile as she put down the bowl of food in front of Missy. The all-black she-cat at the moment was busy tirelessly grooming one of her three kittens, as she had been for the past two weeks. The kitten, a male named Toby, mewled as he tried to join his sisters to nurse. But Missy held him firmly as she continued to lick his head. Only when she was finished did she notice and sniff the food. All the while, Kate sat and watched until she started lapping up the milk. Even then though, she stayed for a moment and smiled softly as she watched the scene before her. While she didn't really appreciate that her aunt took the cats in so quickly, Kate couldn't help but admit that Missy was a good mother for a stray cat. But there was no way she was going to tell her aunt she thought so, especially considering she had plans for the following night.

"Oh, blast your father!" Kate suddenly heard her aunt shout in frustration from the kitchen, causing her to jump slightly. She knew though why she was frustrated. Every ten minutes her aunt tried calling her dad, only to be met with an empty line every time. The result had left her with a near seething agitation that Kate could feel even though she was in another room. After living with her for four years, she knew it was most unwise to leave her aunt impatient and to keep her waiting for long periods of time. And as she slowly turned her attention back to the cats, she could only imagine what the conversation would be like once her dad did get back.

Unfortunately, she didn't have to wait long to witness it. Kate turned her head as soon as she then heard the front door open, and bit her lip in nervous anticipation when she saw her dad walk in. Though she couldn't see him smiling, he still announced his return. "I'm back!" he said before turning his head to his daughter.

Though somewhat put off by her aunt's frustration previously, Kate couldn't help but silently share in her concern, especially since it was now after teatime. And now that her dad was home, she decided to show her own relief by heading over to him and giving him a hug. As he embraced her back, she sighed happily before she looked up at him and said, "I'm glad you're home. Are you alright?"

Giving her a small smile, her dad replied, "Alright enough, I guess."

Deciding she might as well smile before he faced the inevitable, Kate did her best as she said, "Good, Aunt Georgie's mad at you."

Trying to return her expression in a way that looked very similar to hers, her dad replied, "As if I wasn't expecting that."

Kate then reluctantly let go of him, and tried to look away so as not to see the coming conflict. Yet somehow, her eyes had gained a mind of their own. She turned her head again, and just in time, because as she did, her aunt, while casually turning her spoon in her tea as if it was any other day, said, "Thank you for not answering the phone."

Her dad, wasting no time, replied by asking, "I'm sorry but did it never enter your mind that I was busy?"

"You could have told me that you were over the phone!" her aunt retorted, "Do you have any idea how many times I tried?"

"I understand, and I would have called but I had to settle things with Harris and the police!"

"And you couldn't have stopped for two minutes to let me know? Any longer and I would have called the police themselves!"

Though Kate, who had been watching and listening the whole time, let out a brief chuckle, she frowned when she saw her dad sigh and put his head in his hand. With a tired voice he said, "Well, never mind who's right and who's wrong, it's been a long day and, I just don't have the energy to argue."

Before his sister could say anything else though, he stood up straight, and donned the most serious of expressions and added, "But before anyone does anything else, I want to call a family meeting."

Kate nodded and was about to voice her agreement, when suddenly, her phone, which was in her pocket, went off. The eyes of both her dad and her aunt turned her way, which immediately made her blush with embarrassment, not so much at the fact that they were now both giving her odd looks, but at the ringtone that all three of them heard. They heard the Spice Girls singing "Say You'll Be There," and Kate realised that she'd once again forgotten to change it after vowing repeatedly to do so. Still, trying to keep a straight face, she asked, "Do you mind? Just for a moment?"

Her dad only replied by rolling his eyes, pressing his lips together, and letting out a sigh. Without asking whether that was a "yes" or a "no," Kate took out her phone and quickly answered it, turning slightly away from the stares of her family. "Hello?"

_"Hi Kate." _It was Rose, and Kate frowned at the concern she could already hear in her voice. _"Um, listen, I know this might seem sudden but, could Lucy and I have a private word with you?"_

"You've got Lucy on the line?" Kate asked out loud, knowing that it truly was serious if that was true.

_"Trust me," _she then heard Lucy say, _"She called me first."_

There was then a pause. Knowing both were waiting for a response, Kate reluctantly replied, "Um, I'd love to but, my dad just called a family meeting. Do you mind if I put you both on hold? I'll try not to be long."

She heard someone, most likely Rose, sigh into the other end, before she said, _"Oh alright. But would you mind telling your dad to be quick?"_

Though she knew they couldn't see her, Kate couldn't help but smirk. "I'll try my best," she said. Kate then put her hand on one end of the phone and turned back to her dad. Trying to keep the fading smile on her face, she said, "Now then, you were saying Daddy?"

Returning her smile for the briefest second, her dad cleared his throat and said, "Yes, thank you." He then looked with a keen eye at both his sister and his daughter before beginning the meeting with a brief but important announcement.

"Considering the present circumstances, I want to make it clear that nobody – and I mean nobody – is going out after dark without my permission."

Upon hearing those last few words, Kate's smile dropped like a dead fly, and her heart began to beat nervously. But just then, it became clear that her aunt thought this idea was questionable as well.

"James, I thank you very much for your concern, but what if there's an emergency?" she asked, "And besides, I'm usually the one who looks out for everyone's safety."

"And what about my club?" Kate asked, trying to keep all anxiety out of her voice, "We meet after school every Wednesday."

"It's just for now," her dad tried to assure them. He then turned to her aunt and said, "As for your comment, I may be younger than you, but I own the house, I pay the taxes, and I'm letting both of you live here for free."

"But Dad…" Kate suddenly spoke up.

Turning sharply toward her, he interrupted her, saying, "Kate, we can discuss your club later. For now my most important concern is your safety."

"Dad," Kate retorted, her voice becoming hotter, "that's nice and all, but I'm sixteen years old!"

"Yes," he replied with nearly equal heat, "but as long as you live under my roof, you will do what I say when I say!"

"Dad!" Kate exclaimed, though she also tried to hold herself back in an attempt to keep any revealing words spilling out.

"Kate, that's enough!" he stopped her. He then looked her squarely in the eye, which told Kate that he meant business, and asked, "Now is the discussion over, or are we going to keep arguing to the point that I take your bike?"

Kate widened her eyes, not only at the fact that she knew he would do it, since he had done so before, but also at knowing that if he did take her bike, she wouldn't be able to go through with the idea she had in mind for tonight. But then, as she silently thought about it – and attempted not to smile at her dad not knowing – she realised that even though he was smart, neither he nor her aunt would put be able to come to know what she was planning. Not only was it not in her usual behaviour, but they hadn't even figured out by now the fact that she'd been snooping around earlier that day. And knowing them well, if they had, they would have confronted her about it.

So, Kate did the only thing she could do. She sighed, lowered her eyes to show respect, which was genuine, and said in a matching tone, "No, we're done talking."

"Good," her dad said. Kate nodded, until her eyes flew to the phone still in her hand, and she immediately remembered that she still had her friends on hold.

She looked back up at him and, hoping she didn't sound anxious, asked, "Do you mind if I take this call though? It's Rose and Lucy and they said it's important."

"I suppose so," her dad nodded his approval. Kate nodded back to show her thanks before she turned, left the kitchen, and made her way up the stairs, trying to keep any level of suspicion from reaching either her dad or her aunt. Once the door to her room was shut though, she immediately let out a soft sigh of relief before she lifted the phone to the side of her face, hoping the conversation, whatever it would lead to, wouldn't be long.

"I'm back," she said.

_"Well that was short,"_ Lucy said, _"I thought we'd have to wait for half an hour."_

"Yeah well, my dad likes to keep things short, sweet, and to the point," Kate explained as she chuckled slightly.

_"Well, do you mind if we get on with our own meeting?" _Rose then asked, slowing the humour to a grinding halt.

"Sorry Rose," Kate quickly apologised, "You were saying?"

_"Well…"_ Kate and Lucy waited for her to continue, but they were then met with a sigh before she went on to say, _"Kate, what exactly did you have in mind when you said you had a plan?"_

Though she couldn't actually see them, Kate made a puzzled face. "I thought I told you both this afternoon at the library," she replied, "Didn't I?"

_"Yeah but, you didn't tell us specifically what you were planning," _Lucy reminded her, sounding rather concerned herself.

Kate frowned as she then realised that Lucy was correct. Though her heart was still beating anxiously about telling her most secret of plans to anyone, she also knew that if there was anyone she could tell it to at the moment, it was her best friends. She quickly put her hand on the mouth-piece and looked toward the door, which was still shut. When she looked down and saw no shadows, meaning that someone would be standing just outside, she turned around and asked Rose and Lucy, "Are you both alone?"

_"Yes," _both girls said at once.

Though no one was in the room, Kate still kept her voice low as she began to relay her idea to her friends, wondering what they would think of it. "Okay, remember the chapel I went to earlier today?" she asked them.

_"Yes,"_ they both said again, this time separately.

Kate took a moment to prepare herself, knowing this would be big news, before she finally said, "Well, I was thinking of going back to it to get more information, tonight, when everyone's asleep."

_"By yourself?" _Rose asked in clear surprise, _"Seriously?"_

"Why not?" Kate said, not knowing what else to say, "If the villains have kidnapped the bride I doubt they'll be there tonight, what with the police looking for them."

_"But Kate,"_ Rose all-but pleaded, _"It's the Greater London! At night! Do you have any idea what you could run into?"_

Kate bit her lip momentarily, knowing Rose did have a point, but she attempted to assure both herself and her friend by saying, "Yes, but I'll only be going to the chapel. Lucy, what do you think?"

There was another pause, making Kate frown, since she knew by the following silence that Lucy was thinking seriously about what she was going to say.

Before long, she broke the silence by saying with an uneasy voice, _"Okay well, you're not really going to love hearing this but, I kind of agree with her. I mean, no offense but, you might want to think twice before venturing into the inner city at that time of night."_

Kate bit her lip, as she had to admit that she was right. A girl of her age didn't usually go out by herself in the dead of night, with all sorts of dangers, not just the one she was focusing on, lurking about. Yet somehow, it soon seemed to strengthen her resolve, causing her to straighten her posture and change her tone of voice as if her friends were right in front of her.

Not really knowing how this happened but deciding it must have been for the better, she said to both Rose and Lucy, "Well, either way, I can assure you that I've thought this through. I know what I'm doing."

_"Do you?"_ Rose asked skeptically, _"Have you thought of the possibility of coming across the murderers themselves?"_

Kate smirked slightly, since she could easily answer that question. "Yes," she replied, "At any sign of danger, I'll flee."

Her smile, however small it was, nevertheless faded when she then heard another sigh from Rose, one that immediately caused any sense of humour, about as small as her previous smile, to flee. She listened as she heard her say, _"All I'm gonna say then, is that I'm not terribly fond of this idea. I just…I just hope you think before you act."_

Kate gave a slight nod, and with a concerned voice, asked her other friend what she thought. "Lucy?"

Lucy let a silent moment pass before she replied with a slightly uneasy tone of voice, _"I'm with Rose. All I can say I guess is, Kate, watch your back."_

With nervous anxiety now re-emerging within her, Kate decided it would be best to ask no more questions of her friends and that now was the time to be left to only her thoughts. Changing her tone of voice to a friendly one, she told both her friends, "Well, I've got to go, got some things I need to see to."

_"Me too,"_ Lucy replied, _"So, I guess we'll talk later?"_

"Right," Kate nodded with a slight smile, "We'll talk tomorrow. Catch you later."

_"You'd better,"_ Rose made her promise before she sighed, _"Well, bye."_

"Bye everyone," Kate said. She then quickly pushed the end button on her phone, and left it on her desk as she went over to her bedroom window. She usually went over there when she wanted to think, where she could look out and lose herself to her thoughts without looking silly.

But of course, in her mind, tonight wouldn't be about looking silly, but rather, very stupid, at least in a best case scenario. As she looked out at the busy town that stood in the distance of her neighborhood, Kate found herself seriously considering the words of both her friends. When she first thought of the idea, she herself admitted it would have a level of danger to it. And yet, having an exclusive piece of evidence somehow made her feel qualified to take action. After all, if she too was going to be a consulting detective, it might be best to start getting some experience now. Of course, she'd been sneaking around ever since she was a small child, always looking for the next adventure coming her way. But now that a real one seemed to lay ahead of her, she wasn't entirely sure whether her grasp on it would be firm.

Still, she liked going through with her ideas, even if they did seem somewhat outlandish. And she was not stupid. No, she could not back down. As Kate continued to look in the direction of Westminster, her growing determination slowly showed on her face, despite having no one to show it to. She was not a little girl anymore, and she was going to prove it. Prove it to herself, her friends and family, and Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

The next few hours were spent in meticulous planning and waiting, until finally, the clouds above Dollis Hill turned into a fine pitch-black, signaling to most of the neighborhood's inhabitants that it was time to take to their beds. Kate herself thought it best to go and lay in her bed for awhile, another place where she could think without being disturbed. Of course, she couldn't allow herself to stay there too long, lest she actually fall asleep. So eventually, she climbed out of her bed, and began to pace the floor, going in near endless circles, contemplating her first move and the one after that, until her eyes flew to the clock on the wall.

It read ten-thirty p.m., and if Kate was correct, it wasn't five or ten minutes fast. She always made sure of that. But the hardening beat of her heart told her that now might be the time to act. Deciding to make sure if it was, Kate walked slowly and quietly out of her room into the darkened hallway, and continued with the same pace down the hall, until she made it to her aunt's room. She didn't dare touch the knob, but she slightly leaned her ear against the door, and heard a prominent snore from inside, making Kate smile in satisfaction. How her uncle managed to sleep with her aunt all those years with _that_, she didn't know. But it meant she was asleep. And if she was sleeping, then more than likely, her dad was too.

With the same pace and desire to be unheard, Kate made her way back to her room, and began to change out of her pajamas into the clothes she'd planned to wear. With the night promising only darkness and black, she would dress in the same manner. After pulling off her shirt and pants, she headed to her closet and pulled out her clothes. She then donned black jeans, suitable for riding, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a black hoodie. But she didn't stop there. She then went to her dresser and took out from the bottom drawer a tube of black-face paint, where she had left it since Halloween the year before, and went to her bathroom.

In front of her mirror and closing her eyes, she carefully applied the paint, which had served her last October when she, Rose, and Lucy went out as black cats, and would surely serve her now. True, it may have seemed silly to a more sensible, indeed, a more rational person, but she was going to go all-out tonight if it meant keeping her all the more hidden. She applied it on her cheeks, over her eyes, and on her forehead before washing the paint off her hands and then headed back to her room in order to make final preparations.

Just a short while later, once her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and she wore biking gloves on her hands, Kate went one more time into the bathroom and stopped in front of the mirror to see the results. And, to her at least, it seemed she'd done a pretty good job, looking very much the part of a consulting detective in the manner of Sherlock Holmes. She admitted, though, that to most she might look like a juvenile delinquent, but this was, hopefully, the only night she'd ever have to dress like this.

Soon, her eye caught her bedroom window, causing another idea to come to her head, one that immediately made her chuckle. True, it would be really good fun to go out the window, but she wasn't that absurd, since it was obviously too high. No, for this part of her plan, she needed to be rational. Making no attempt to stay any longer, she turned off all the lights in her room, pulled up her hood, and grabbed her small black boots which sat by the door. Opening the door slowly, Kate looked left and right, and when she saw that no one was in the still dark hall, she quickly but quietly made her way out and then went down the stairs, ignoring her rapidly beating heart as she began to feel like an intruder in her own house.

She eventually made it to the garage, unopposed, and decided it was now safe to pull on her boots. Once that was done with, she then took the spare key that her family kept near the back door, and then grabbed her bike from its usual place nearby. Before long, Kate was outside, the door to the garage locked, and the key in her pocket. Though the chill of the early autumn air immediately fell on her when she walked out, an even colder gush of wind reminded her to zip her jacket, as well as to take extra mental precautions.

Still, when Kate pulled the bike to the front of the house, she couldn't help but look back for just a moment or two, nervously biting her lip, until she forced herself to slowly look back the other way. When she finally did lay sight on the dauntingly long road, which seemed to stretch further in length the longer she gazed on it, she soon gulped and wiped away the sweat before it could appear on her forehead. She then donned the most serious expression she could, and made herself take a slow, deep breath. She was really going to do this. And she was not going to turn back until this case was solved.

After willing herself to mount the bicycle, she used the same amount with her legs to ease forward, one stride at a time, both eyes on the path ahead, until she was going top speed. Like a free shadow roaming the streets at night, she made her way through the neighborhood, the lights of the houses on either side as her only guide, and not once did she look back again.

Before Kate knew it, she'd pedaled out of the neighborhood, and came to the town proper of Dollis Hill. She traveled with the same speed past Gladstone Park and the old nineteenth-century Dollis Hill house, never stopping once. She was glad she knew the way to Westminster, even in the dead of night, since she'd been there dozens of times. While she rode, though she tried to ignore her slowly growing anxiety, the beat of her heart had bested her efforts. She wasn't used to biking at such a late-hour, and with good reason. Rose's words regarding all the dangers present in the city caused pictures of thieves, drug dealers, and worse to emerge in Kate's mind. London was a big city, and as such had its fair share of crimes, but Kate was determined, despite the urge to turn back, that one would not befall her tonight.

She continued riding, the minutes ticking by with every foot she traveled, until she finally arrived in the city that immediately towered over her once she did. She had made it to Westminster, and in one piece. With the first, and perhaps most important part of her mission seen through, Kate continued pedaling, looking straight ahead, but looking around every so often at the metropolis that prided itself as being the center of Great Britain.

Though she'd come here after dark before, never had she seen the city so up close and personal. At one point, she saw what appeared to be a homeless man lying asleep on the side of the road, with clothes that looked in need of repair and a beard that looked like it hadn't been washed or cut in the longest time. At another sight, Kate's eyes widened when she saw a man kissing a woman on the neck, and out in the open. She didn't particularly like it when couples made out in public, and decided then and there that her first kiss would be done in a much more discreet manner. Eventually though, Kate's sense of smell caught a mouth-watering scent emanating from a Chinese restaurant. Had she the time, money, and a different appearance, she probably would have dropped in to purchase something. But Kate turned her attention back to the road ahead of her, and decided not to let anymore distractions get in the way.

After a near endless series of turns and street-crossings and avoiding cabs, a couple of buses, and the looks of the various passersby that cared to be out this late, Kate widened her eyes like a child discovering a priceless treasure when she finally laid eyes on a familiar silhouette across the street. She recognized immediately by the shape and with the help of the two dim lights on that this was indeed the chapel that she had just been to only twelve hours earlier. And she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the absence of any sign of the police. Her relief, however, was short-lived, as she now had to keep every possible guard up to make sure nothing could catch her off-guard.

After looking both ways to make sure no vehicles were coming, Kate dismounted from her bike and hastened across the street, quietly of course, where she leaned her bike against the brick wall of the chapel. She then looked on to where the wall ended at a far corner in the same manner with which she looked down the road when she began her adventure. She could hardly believe that she had managed to come this far. Would she be as lucky for the rest of the mission? Only time would tell. Thinking of time, Kate took out her phone from her pocket, and looked at the clock on the upper-left of the screen. It was almost eleven, and she had intended to get home before midnight, so she couldn't linger. Putting her phone away, she breathed a deep breath similar to the one she took half an hour earlier, and began to cautiously make her way to the corner.

Immediately, something about the whole situation struck Kate as unnerving. Not just the dangerous mystery that awaited to be solved, but simply the notion of lurking around a religious building of all places at night. She instantly felt like a trespasser, especially considering that there was a cemetery in the back. Kate and her friends had once joked about going to sleep in there when they were old enough, which, according to their parents, would be never. But, of course, now wasn't the time for jokes. With only the crickets, the occasional passing of a car, and her feet against the grass breaking the otherwise haunting silence, Kate continued to practice caution as she moved forward, trying to think about anything she might of missed or of any place she hadn't inspected yet.

Oh! Why had she not thought to bring a flashlight? Why couldn't her phone have had one in it? The next time she went on a mission like this, which, she admitted she hoped wouldn't be anytime soon after this, she would definitely remind herself to bring some important tools. But, even if she had brought a flashlight, there was no telling what, or who, she might find. All she could do was search like she would in the day, unarmed and unaided.

She made it about as far as to the garden, and still hadn't found anything. She was now beginning to wonder if she should go back home, whether the reason was that she hadn't found anything or that she wanted to flee before something bad happened. But before she could make a decision, Kate's ears pricked up when she heard voices a few yards away. Thinking she at last had a new clue, and desiring to remain unseen, she ducked down and made her way forward slightly slower than before. Before long, the masculine voices became louder, and Kate frowned and grew more nervous when she caught the rough and unfriendly tones. Now she knew she needed a place to hide.

Quickly searching the dark, she spotted a series of shadows shaped like a row of bushes and a tall tree with a thick trunk. She heard the voices come closer, so she wasted no time as she got down on all fours and crawled as fast as she could over to the trunk, where she sat with her back against it, hugging her legs to her chest, and not daring to so much as breathe loudly as she tried to will her heart to calm down.

Before long, she began to hear them clearly, along with their footprints, as they soon came her way. Now all she could do now was wait, listen, and hope her outfit would keep her hidden.

"I don't know what we're doin' out here anyway," one gruff voice said.

"Don't play dumb or I'll hit you!" another, more frustrated voice replied, "No one'll think a couple o' killers would go straight back to the scene of their third crime!"

Kate's eyes widened like saucers and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp at what she heard. Not only was she basically hearing a confession, but she was hearing it from the mouth of one of the criminals himself. She pressed her hand to her chest to keep her heart from beating so loud, and pressed her head against the tree as she eagerly, but not without slight reluctance, tried to hear more.

"Well they haven't exactly been quick to find us," the first voice said, "But I –" hiccup "– can barely see."

"Oh, get over it!" the second voice sneered at him, "I can only see out of one eye and I'm fine."

Kate's hand flew to her mouth when she heard them. She immediately remembered her conversation with the gardener that morning, about one man who acted like he was drunk, and the other who was blind in one eye. She also recalled, whether or not it was her wish, how the gardener had had something of a showdown with them. And he'd been fortunate enough to elude them. What if they caught her here sometime soon if not now? Would she have the same luck? Eventually though, despite these thoughts, she shook her head slightly. It wasn't time to focus on these questions right now. For the time being, if she wanted further progress, she needed to continue listening.

"Whatever," the first man said, "But I still don't see why we had to come out here."

"We came out here," the second man said through gritted teeth, "because the master said so."

"Well you know what? I'd rather be at a pub. At least there's good drink there. When 'e gets here, I'm gonna give 'im a piece o' my mind."

In the following mere seconds, not only did Kate suddenly hear that man being roughly grasped, but she also jumped slightly when she felt the man being slammed into the other side of the very tree she was sitting against. For a millisecond, the tree shook, and when Kate nearly leaped out of her skin, she bit her tongue by accident. Shutting her watering eyes and holding her hands to her mouth both to prevent a surprised gasp and a shout of pain from escaping her, her ears continued to listen whether she wanted to or not.

"I swear," the second man said, the heat of anger in his voice surrounding Kate, "if you don't put a stop to your blasted drinking, I will _murder_ you! Moreover, if you continue to spout nonsense and slurs, I will not hesitate to rip out your vocal chords too! Do you understand me?!"

The first man paused for a moment, as if to seriously consider his partner's words, while Kate desperately hoped her pounding heart wouldn't give her away. Fortunately, it wasn't long before the first man – Drinker, she decided to call him – replied nervously, "Yeah, yeah, I get you."

"Good," the first man – Angry Eye – said with satisfaction, though he was obviously still greatly annoyed.

"But, would you mind reminding me again what we're doin' 'ere?" Drinker asked.

Kate heard Angry Eye sigh in frustration, and imagined him rolling his eyes as he did so, before he replied, "This is the last time I'm telling you so you'd better be listening!When the master gets here we're discussing our plans for our fifth prize."

Kate's mouth immediately dropped open the moment she heard that last word. Just as quickly, she put two and two together to realise that they were going to add a fifth bride to their list of capture and death. Knowing she had to hear more, despite the shivers that slithered up her spine like snakes feeding on her fear, Kate leaned further against the tree, knowing very well that she was risking being seen even more.

"Well I don't see why we have to get another one," Drinker said, "Besides, the police may be slow to catch us, but they got 'elp. From what I hear they got that detective Sherlock 'Olmes in on the whole thing. And if there's one thing I know, you don't mess with 'im."

_No you don't_, Kate silently agreed. She continued to remain as still as possible as she listened further.

"We stop when the master says so," Angry Eye replied, "And yes, we keep out of the man's way." He paused for a moment, one in which Kate didn't even hear the crickets chirp, before he said, "Still, he's too smart for his own good. The moment he's on to us we'll give him the showdown he wants."

Whether she believed she'd heard enough, or that she simply wished to get out of here before things went horribly wrong, Kate decided that now was the time to leave. It was likely that the men would be here for hours, and she didn't have that much time. Taking the dare, and ignoring her unrelenting heartbeat, she quickly but quietly got down on all fours. Thankful for the cover of the bushes, she slowly began to crawl forward like a soldier making her way through the trenches. She was making good progress, and let a small smile grow on her lips…until her moving foot hit a rock, and she heard Angry Eye.

"Wait a minute," he said, "I think I heard something."

One footstep was followed by another while Kate lay as still as she possibly could, her eyes shut with terror, and her teeth biting down hard on her lower lip.

"I know you're back there," Angry Eye said, "Either you come out, or things'll get ugly."

Kate knew that things would get ugly regardless of whether she revealed herself or not. But she did know one thing for certain. She had to get out of here. She had to do something and she had to do something now, or she was going to be dead meat for a rabid junkyard doberman. But what could she do? Why had she not thought to bring a weapon?! Wait, maybe she did. It might not be a weapon in the traditional sense, but it was something. As fast as she could, Kate dug her hand into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and turned on the camera. Hoping against all hope that it would be bright enough, right before Angry Eye got too close to her, Kate shot up to her feet, and pointed the flash of the camera in the direction of the men.

The second they backed away from the blinding flash, Kate turned and sprinted away in the opposite direction, not looking back as she heard the men now behind her.

"What was that?!" Drinker asked, "Wait! They're gettin' away!"

"No they're not!" Angry Eye retorted. The next sound she heard nearly caused Kate to fall forward, so great was her shock of terror. The moment she heard a gunshot and heard it hit a rock next to her, Kate didn't care whether or not she was wearing clothes that otherwise concealed her, because she let out a loud scream. With her heart beating as fast as she was running, she continued to speed away from the madmen intent on killing her. She heard another gunshot hit the ground just inches behind her, which only made her run even faster. Though at first she couldn't see anyone else in the darkness that threatened to keep her here forever, Kate shouted with fright, "Help! Someone help me!"

She didn't believe anyone would hear, making her all the more surprised when she then heard someone near the front of the building call out, "Over 'ere ma'am!"

Though he said only three words, Kate instantly recognized that voice as the gardener she met earlier that day. Happy beyond belief that it was not only someone who had heard her and would help, but also someone she was acquainted with, she rushed even faster in the direction of the voice, and saw the man's shadowed form in front of one of the two dim lights coming from inside the upper building.

"Help me, please!" she shouted again, not stopping or even slowing down.

"Just go!" the man said as he took her by the elbow and urged her down the road in front, "I'll hold 'em off!"

"Thank you so much!" Kate nearly cried with relief over her shoulder as she now hurried to her bike, happy to see that it had remained where she left it. She quickly jumped on, shoved her phone back into her pocket, and immediately propelled herself forward, her hands tightening around the handlebars until they could tighten no more. Still, she didn't look back, even though she had the desire to. She knew she could only keep her eyes on the road if she wanted to flee those villains.

For a short while that seemed like forever, it seemed that she might have succeeded. Even so, she did not slow down unless absolutely necessary, especially since she was getting into the more densely populated parts of the city. Not only that, but Kate's worry only increased when she soon realised that she was the only one on a bicycle, which made her a very easy target. And before long, despite her most desperate wishes and desire to escape, she eventually heard the loud, harsh voice of Angry Eye along with what sounded like rushing footprints not too far behind her.

"Hey!" Reluctantly, she turned her head, and her eyes widened with terror when she saw the two men, both wearing dark clothing like she was, heading her way. Even from where she was, she could see the clear intention to murder practically emanating from them, and they obviously were not about to let her escape if they could help it. But knowing there was just about nothing she could do other than to run, Kate turned her head back around and pedaled even faster.

For the next several hundred yards, Kate continued to weave her way through the maze of the city in an attempt to elude her would-be captors, while they continued to pursue her. With her adrenaline now causing her heartbeat to skyrocket to an alarming rate, Kate knew that unless she could think of a way to make Drinker and Angry Eye stop chasing her, they would eventually catch her. She couldn't allow herself to think of what would happen if that came to be, and so instead tried to think of a way out of this maddening chase.

Knowing she couldn't use her phone again, Kate focused her thinking on her surroundings instead. She soon began to notice that she was entering a part of the city that had a considerable number of alleyways and alcoves. Of course, it wasn't a very original idea, and there could have been more people just like the ones after her dwelling in them, but considering the state she was in now, Kate made the spur-of-the-moment decision that she had to try to seek a hiding place.

After spotting a corner, she headed toward and then darted around it. She then halted to a stop, quickly looked around, and decided on impulse to hurry to the closest one on the left. Once she was safely in the darkness, and beyond thankful that there was no one there to terrorise her even more than she already was, she hopped off and was about to breathe a sigh of relief, when suddenly, her foot touched something that sounded like it was made of metal. She looked down, and even though it was dark, she picked it up, and realised she was holding a rusty crowbar. Why someone would simply leave something like this here, Kate couldn't imagine. But before long, it didn't matter, as she heard a series of rapid footsteps rushing toward her, getting louder, and thus, closer, by the second.

Kate's eyes flew to the crowbar in her hands, and an idea suddenly flashed in her mind. Now that she had a proper weapon, and now that she allowed her initial shock to turn into anger, she firmly pressed her lips together, and then pressed her back against the brick wall behind her. With her heart now beating in anticipation rather than fright, she waited patiently for the men to come her way, gripping her new weapon tightly. And right when they were only a few inches from being right next to her, Kate grit her teeth, and with the greatest amount of strength she had, she hit the first, and then the second man with the crowbar, causing both of them to shout in pain and then fall to the ground in great surprise.

During the next few seconds, the men remained on the ground, while Kate was left to face her own unique surprise at what she just did. Her back now bending forward because of her now heavy, heaving stomach, her eyes slowly shifted their focus on Drinker and Angry Eye, and her surprise quickly faded when she noticed that Drinker was trying to get up. Not about to lose the upper hand, Kate remembered she still had the crowbar in her hands, and pressed it down on the man's chest, which immediately caused him to back off.

Feeling great relief at having bested them, but also anger over all that she'd just experienced, Kate spoke with slightly gritted teeth and unblinking eyes at the two men who'd tried to harm her. "Chase me like that again," she said, hoping to sound as threatening as a hissing snake, "and you'll get even worse than this crowbar."

Both men stared at her with wide-eyed, almost disbelieving faces. Soon though, Angry Eye roughly elbowed Drinker, and the two men began to slowly back away from her, their eyes never leaving her, even after they got to their feet. And all the while, Kate stood straight and returned their stares, her eyes narrowing, and her hands ready to use her crowbar again should they even take one step toward her.

"Okay, you made yourself clear," Angry Eye then said, "Now it's my turn. We catch you sneakin' up on us again, and you won't be as lucky as you are now."

Kate let out a small sigh, spotting the man's one cloudy eye – bringing to mind the gardener's description – before she replied, "I suppose that's a fair deal."

Angry Eye nodded, and Kate watched as he turned, and punched Drinker in the arm before going around the corner, obviously signaling that he meant for him to follow. But before Drinker followed the order, he shot Kate one more nasty look – which she gladly returned – and then hurried to catch up with his partner, finally leaving her alone in accordance with her request.

There she stood, all by herself, and while she wished to remain brave, part of her wanted to break down and cry at knowing that all that had just happened was real, and at relief that it was over, at least for now. Even so, she felt only dry tears reach her eyes, which soon made her realise that she could not stand where she was forever. With a heavy and tired sigh, Kate dropped the crowbar, hearing the sound of metal meeting concrete, and turned around to head toward her bike. Before long, she was back on it again, and willed her now tired legs to pedal herself forward, knowing she'd be all the more tired when she got home.

What she had no way of knowing, however, was that she was being watched by two men. Not the same who had attempted to attack her, but ones who had begun to take a keen interest in her, especially the taller one standing next to his colleague. His colleague however, only stood wide-eyed with disbelief at what had just happened.

"Sherlock, did you see that?" he asked. He turned to his friend and gave him a confused look when he saw him staring straight ahead with unblinking eyes.

"Indeed I did," he replied after a long, silent pause, "And I also see that we're not after just one person anymore."

"You still believe that girl is involved?" John asked, frowning with disapproval, "And besides, aren't we going to the chapel?"

"In answer to your first question, yes," Sherlock replied, still not looking at him, "And in answer to your second, we can cancel tonight's investigation."

"You're joking!" John instantly let out a mirthless laugh, "You're telling me I left with you right after coming home from work for nothing?"

"Oh it wasn't for nothing," Sherlock shook his head, "You just asked me if I saw what just happened."

He then turned his face to his colleague for the first time since he shifted his intense focus to watch the girl's escapade the moment it took place, and with the same intense look in his eye that John knew he would never be able to duplicate, Sherlock declared in a voice only he and John would hear, "Trust me. That girl is our girl."

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


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